


Partners

by redhairedwriter7



Series: Partners [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Basically a list of things that you could be arrested for, Cop AU, Crime Scenes, Explosions, F/M, Forgery, Friendship, Hacking, Hostage Situations, Like really slow build... dude this is a murder mystery what do you expect?, M/M, Mayhem, Mild Language, Minor Character Death, Multi, Murder, Murder Mystery, Past Character Death, Romance, Slow Build, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-10 00:52:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2004660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhairedwriter7/pseuds/redhairedwriter7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or also known as... the cop AU that has been running amuck in my brain for over a year now.</p><p>G1, modern human AU.</p><p>Captain Orion Paxton of the 12th is shocked when his precinct is assigned a new recruit. Enter Detective Inspector Lacey Barton from London's Metropolitan Police. A budding inspector with spunk and sass to boot. Orion is hesitant of this new "partnership" and Lacey just wants her new commander to like her. But when a serial killer decides to make Boston their hunting ground, Orion and Lacey must work together before the killer fills the city streets with blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new recruit from across the Atlantic brings something different to the 12th precinct in Boston.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey readers!
> 
> I just wanted to let you all know that I am currently re-writing Partners! I have gone over this story so many times and found some mistakes that I really want to fix. So, without further delay... here is chapter one!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Transformers. Hasbro owns them. Not me.

* * *

“A transfer?”

Chief Stephen Parks nodded.

“From Scotland Yard?” 

Again, the chief nodded and took a sip of his morning coffee. Black with two sugars; just the way he liked it. 

“Yes, Orion. You heard me the first time.”

Across from him sat Captain Orion Paxton, a close friend and one of his top captains. He was still young, having been captain of the 12th precinct for five years; he still had much to learn. He was accustomed to have transfers from different precincts but nothing like this. This was something entirely different.

“According to her superiors, she is one of their finest inspectors. She’s caught several high-profiled criminals, including the Berkshire Rapist. It took them over eight years before they finally caught him and she was the one who connected the rapist’s primary school teacher to the third victim.” the chief said. He took another long drink of his coffee. “Which is why I assigned her to your precinct.”  

Wait, what? Orion stared at his superior with wide blue eyes. “My - my precinct?” he stammered. 

“Yes, your precinct, captain," the chief answered. He leaned back in his leather chair. 

"She is incredibly bright and a quick thinker. An excellent behavior analyst and investigator. She will be a good asset to the 12th and to Boston's finest,” he said. “Besides, I think she will be a good fit for you.” 

Orion was puzzled.  

He shifted in his chair, unsure, and cleared his throat. “Sir, with all due respect, I don’t need a babysitter,” the captain stated. Stephen quirked a brow; his expression curious. “I am fully capable of taking care of my precinct on my own.”

“She is not a babysitter, captain,” the chief said. Stephen looked up at the captain and narrowed his blue-grey eyes; he folded his hands behind his head. 

Orion quirked a brow. “Then why - ” 

“Orion,” he interrupted. The captain silenced himself, still itching to plead his case. The chief continued. “I would not assign her to your precinct if I did not think it was in your best interest,” Stephen leaned forward. “You must trust me on this.” 

Orion opened his mouth to protest when the intercom. at the chief’s desk beeped. The chief held up a hand and picked up the phone. 

“Yes Carol?”  

_“Inspector Barton has arrived. Should I send her to your office?”_  

“Yes, send her up. I want her to meet the new captain. That’ll be all, Carol,” Stephen replied. The chief hung up the phone and then turned to Orion. “You are in luck, Orion. It seems you may meet your new partner sooner than you think.” 

Orion gaped at his commanding officer. “I’m sorry?” he asked, still in shock.  

Stephen chuckled, a small smile forming on his lips. Orion blinked several times and was about to speak when a knock sounded at the door. The chief stood up and motioned for Orion to do the same. When Orion stood, Stephen dusted off his suit and cleared his throat. 

“Come in.”  

When the door opened, Orion was taken back by the woman who had just entered the room; there was no denying that she was attractive. Curly blonde hair cropped to her shoulders and green eyes. She was also much shorter and younger than he was; most likely in her late twenties. She wore dark wash jeans, a pale pink blouse, dark brown boots, and supported a leather jacket.  

Stephen was the first to speak. “You must be Detective Inspector Barton,” the chief said. “I’m Chief Stephen Parks and this is Captain Orion Paxton; he will be your commanding officer.” He extended out a hand and shook hands with the young woman.

“Pleased to meet you, sir. And to you as well, captain,” she said. She extended her hand and shook hands with Orion. The captain nodded and then glanced over at the chief. 

“I take it you are settling well in Boston?” Stephen asked.  

Lacey shrugged and said, “I’m still trying to get used to the time zone.”  

“Well, I’m glad you are settling in,” the chief said. He clapped his hands, startling Orion. “Now that introductions are out of the way, I have a meeting with the mayor this afternoon that we have rescheduled twice now. Perhaps a third time will be the charm. You can handle things from here, can’t you, captain?” 

The captain broke his gaze from the young woman and nodded. “Yes, sir.” 

“Good.” Stephen nodded and then grabbed his briefcase from behind his desk. “I will leave you to get to know one another...” He turned to leave when he paused and then looked at Orion with a smirk on his lips. “I wish the best of luck to both of you.” With that said, the chief was gone and left the two strangers standing in the middle of the room.

“We best get back to the precinct and introduce you to everyone,” Orion murmured. “And I apologize for the chief behavior. He’s a close friend of mine and he knows that I am not good with new people.” 

Lacey laughed and rolled her eyes. “It is no trouble at all, sir. My old partner was the same way.”

The captain chuckled which caused Lacey to smile. Well, it’s a start. she thought as she ran her fingers through her hair. The man grabbed his jacket and slipped it on. Lacey pulled on her own jacket and dropped her hands at her sides. The captain motioned for the woman to follow him and the pair made their way out of the building. 

“I can always take a cabbie, sir.” Lacey said as Orion unlocked his car and opened the passenger door for her. 

The captain leaned forward, a smirk forming on his lips. “You don’t even know where the precinct is.” 

Good point. The blonde pointed a finger at him and nodded. “Looks like I will be riding with you,” the inspector said. She climbed into the car and buckled her seat belt. 

Orion climbed into his car, buckled up, and started up the engine. Lacey leaned back into the seat and placed her hands on her lap, fingers intertwined. The two sat in silence as Orion drove them back to the precinct. No one dared to speak until they climbed out of the car and walked up the front steps to the double doors. Orion pushed the doors open and strode through with Lacey trailing behind him. They passed through security, stopped to say hello to the receptionist, and boarded the elevator that would take them upstairs to the precinct. When the elevator doors dinged and opened, the precinct was already buzzing with life. Detectives and officers were bustling around desks, leaning over computers, and talking as they went on their merry way. Lacey couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed; this was certainly not like the Yard. Everyone was stone-cold professional; no funny business allowed. 

“This way,” Orion said.

He motioned for her to follow him to his office. They made their way to the captain’s office and closed the door behind them. Lacey stood by the door and watched as Orion walked to his desk and pulled out a badge and waist holster from one of the drawers. He placed them on the desk and sat down. Lacey grabbed the two items from the desk, slipped on the hostler and clipped the badge to her waist. 

“You can retrieve your weapon from the security lockers. I’ll have one of my officers escort you - ” The captain’s cell phone began to ring.

Orion paused and answered it, “Paxton. Where? I’ll be there soon... Thank you, Novak.” and he hung up. He glanced up at Lacey who stood a few feet from his desk. “Well, you might as well start now, inspector. We’ve just been called in for a murder.” 

“A murder?” the young woman said. “What happened?” 

Orion nodded and grabbed his weapon from his desk drawer. “A woman was found in an alley on Kingston by a construction worker,” he explained. “The team will meet us there.” He looked up at the inspector and holstered his gun to his waist. “Shall we?” 

“Lead the way, captain.” she said.  

The captain strode out of his office with Lacey behind him.

* * *

“Perhaps it is best I should warn you about Ian, our firearms specialist,” Orion said to the inspector as they made another turn. “He is very...forward.”

Lacey raised a blonde brow. “Forward?” she repeated.

The captain nodded as the two walked into the security lockers. There with his back to them stood Ian Winters. A tall, muscular man with salt and pepper hair. He was cleaning one of the many weapons in his arsenal and failed to hear the pair walk in. Orion rapped his knuckles on the door frame. Ian rolled his eyes, dropped his supplies and turned to face the two. His blue-grey eyes immediately locked onto Lacey who stood next to Orion. His lips formed into a grin and he leaned back against his table. 

“Well, looks like you finally got yourself a lady-friend, Paxton,” the firearms specialist chuckled. “About damn time.”

Orion chose to ignore his friend. Instead, he leaned down and said to Lacey, “As I said before: forward.” 

Lacey shook her head with a roll of her eyes. Ian must have known that comment was about him because the grin on his face only seemed to grow wider. He continued to stare at Lacey who scowled at him.  

Paxton indicated the woman next to him. “Forgive me for the interruption Winters, but this is our newest member to the precinct, Detective Inspector Lacey Barton. She’s just arrived from London. She will need to be registered a weapon.”

“London, you say?” Ian laughed. “Those posh bastards at the Yard get too annoying for you?”

“I think they were just upset when a woman half their age caught a serial rapist they had been struggling to find over a decade,” Lacey explained.

Ian nodded, impressed. “Oh, you’ll fit right in, inspector,” He cracked his knuckles and gestured to the shelves around him. “Only the most well-stocked weapons bunker this side of Boston.” 

Lacey was taken back.  _Forward is a bit of an understatement._ she thought. The blonde woman folded her arms over her chest and looked around the bunker. It was true that was a variety of weapons. Some were still locked away in their boxes. Others were sitting on Ian’s wooden table, taken apart just so they could be cleaned. Overall, a nice assortment of weaponry. But she had seen better... much better. 

“I hate to tell you this, Mr. Winters, but I’ve seen better weapons locked away in a man’s basement. The bloke believed that rabid beavers with machetes were out to get him,” she commented. “And mind you, they were all illegal weapons.” 

“Who do you think supplied those said illegal weapons?” Ian grinned. He slyly winked before ducking down behind the counter.  

Before she could reach across the counter and land a punch, Orion grabbed the inspector by the elbow and tugged her back. He sent her a narrowed look and then loosened his grip on her elbow. The blonde in turn narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

“He is only joking of course,” Paxton interjected. He took in a deep breath before muttering afterward, “At least, I hope he is.”  

Ian came back up again with several varieties of guns and a couple sets of gear. “Try these on and see what fits. We don’t get too many ladies so it’s a guessing game on the sizes.” He ducked back down again to rummage for some more things.

Lacey looked down at the bulletproof vests, holsters, and not to mention the weapons that were laying before her. She felt like a child in a candy store… except it was full of weapons. She chuckled and grabbed a standard issue Glock 22 from the table. She examined the barrel of the weapon and smiled at it. _Let’s hope this bloke is better at taking care of his weapons than he is at picking up women._ she thought with a smirk. 

The woman grabbed a clip of ammunition and reloaded the Glock. She placed the gun back onto the table and picked up a Glock 33. It was much smaller than the Glock 22. It was the preferred spare weapon of anyone in law enforcement. She knelt down and pulled up her pant leg, revealing an ankle holster. Orion raised a brow, impressed by this. He watched as the inspector holstered the weapon and stood back up. She straightened her blouse and jacket. She grabbed the Glock 22 again and holstered it to her hip.  

“We can’t stay for long, Winters. There’s been a murder.” Orion said to the firearms specialist. 

Ian straightened back up, dusting his shirt off, his face suddenly serious. “Of course sir. If you need anything else, you know where to find me.” He saluted the captain and inspector before going back to cleaning his recent project. 

* * *

She was beautiful. Undeniably beautiful. Enchanting, almost. Dark red hair that curled past her shoulders that flew in the night breeze. Her dress hugged her frame perfectly, showing off every curve. She stood outside of the club, a hand pressed to her ear as she attempted to block out the music from inside. She was talking on the phone with someone. A boyfriend? She threw her head back in laughter. Maybe it was her parents? The woman laughed again and rolled her eyes. Judging by her behavior, it was quite possible. But that did not matter to the stranger who lurked behind the dumpster. 

He liked watching people from afar. He enjoyed reading their body language and how they interacted with one another. But most of all, he loved watching young women. He liked the way they smelled, the way they spoke, the way they tasted. He licked his lips as this beautiful specimen finished her conversation and began to head towards the club. He couldn’t let her get away, not when he was this close. He had to take her now.

Like a lion pouncing on a gazelle, he lunged from behind the dumpster and caught the woman from behind. His large arms wrapped themselves around her face, covering her mouth. She tried to scream but it was no use. Her attacker was much stronger than she was and he towered over her small frame. She continued to struggle but it was no help to her. He loved watching them fight back. It was fun and entertaining. Just the way he liked it. 

He waited several moments before he twisted his arms and with a loud snap! the woman’s neck was broken. She fell limp in his arms, her brown eyes wide and unseeing. He dragged her body deeper into the alleyway and laid her onto the cold floor. He knelt next to the body and took out a small blade from his back pocket. He leaned down to the woman’s neck and began to carve into her skin, just behind the ear. When he was finished, he sat back to admire his work. And there, now dripping blood down the side of her neck, the letter L was signed into the woman’s pale skin. He brushed a strand of the woman’s hair before he stood up, pocketed his blade and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So, here is a character list to help everyone understand who is who in the world of Partners! I will continue to update this list every chapter as new characters are introduced!
> 
> Feel free to comment and leave kudos! I want to hear from you all!
> 
> Character List:
> 
> Orion Paxton: Optimus Prime  
> Stephen Parks: Sentinel Prime  
> Lacey Barton: Lunarbolt (My OC)  
> Ian Winters: Ironhide


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
>  
> 
> Note: Since this is a crime fiction, I will be using criminal justice terms. I will add a list of them at the beginning of the chapter.
> 
> Important terms:  
> Cervical fracture - broken neck  
> "Bag and tag" - collecting evidence and then "tagging" them with the appropriate information

* * *

“Are you ready for your first crime scene, inspector?”

“I think so, sir.”

Orion lifted up the yellow crime scene tape and entered the alleyway, scrunching his nose at the smell that proceeded to assault him. Lacey coughed several times before she held her hand to her own nostrils and mouth. Despite living in London for most of her life, the inspector had to admit that Boston was very different. Orion eventually made past the smell and cast his eyes over to the dumpster where two of the investigators were searching through. The captain beckoned for Lacey to follow him. The two approached the body where the medical examiner, Ryan Hawthorne, kneeled over the young woman.

“Nice for you to grace us with your presence, captain,” Ryan grumbled, hazel eyes narrowed. He was a man in early forties with dark brown hair with flecks of gray. He also had wrinkles growing at the temples due to his constant frowning and scowling. “I know the dead aren’t always as fun as paperwork but at least they make life interesting.” He looked up at the captain and then to Lacey. He pulled off one of his latex gloves. “And who might you be?”

Just as Orion was about to introduce the inspector, she beat him to it. “Detective Inspector Lacey Barton of London’s Metropolitan Police. Chief Parks placed me to work under Captain Paxton,” she said, shaking Ryan’s hand. “Do you mind if I take a quick look at the body?”

Ryan gestured for her to kneel down. “By all means,” he said. 

Lacey knelt down and began her own assessment, pulling a pair of her own latex gloves from her back pocket and slipping them on. She then began to pick at the clothing, catching small fibers from the dress. The medical examiner stood up and then pulled Orion off to the side. When they were a few feet away, Ryan turned to the captain with a quirked brow and curious expression.

“London?” he asked surprised. “When did this happen?”

Orion lifted his gaze up to his friend and said, “This morning. Chief Parks felt the inspector would be a great asset to the precinct.” He folded his arms over his chest. “He failed to mention that she would be the equivalent of a partner.” 

That quickly perked Ryan’s curiosity by the obvious quirked brow. “A partner?” the examiner said. Ryan was working with Orion when the incident happened and he was just as surprised then as he was now. The doctor shifted his gaze over to the inspector before returning to Orion. “And, what do you think?”

Orion shrugged. “I’m not sure," he admitted. "We will just have to see what happens at this point."

As for Lacey, she bagged and tagged the fibers and then handed them to one of the technicians to take. He had a confused expression and looked over to Ryan who simply mouthed to him, “She’s new.” The technician shrugged and then walked away, leaving Lacey to continue her investigation.

The blonde looked over at the corpse and bent down. Something felt different about this body, something felt off about her. However, she just couldn’t put a finger on it. The woman tilted the corpse’s neck to the side and gasped when she saw a small jagged L carved behind the girl’s ear. Taking in the time of death and the dried blood on the victim’s neck into account, this was done after she was killed. 

“Doctor? I think you might want to take a look at this,” Lacey called. Ryan and Orion walked over and crouched down next to the inspector. The medical examiner looked at the wound and nodded.

“Good observation, inspector,” he murmured. Ryan motioned for one of the crime scene techs to take photos of the newly discovered wound. He then shooed the young female tech away and went back to inspecting the body. 

“Cause of death?” Orion asked as he got to his feet. Lacey pulled off her latex gloves and ran a hand through her hair.

“Cervical fracture,” Ryan stated. He pointed to the bruising around the corpse’s neck. “There’s distinctive bruising here so I’m assuming he was strangling her before he decided to break her neck.”

“What about time of death?” Lacey asked.

“Based on liver temperature, I would say your victim died between 12 and 1 a.m. this morning,” Ryan answered. “Then again, I won’t know any more until I take her back to the morgue. Adler!” He whistled for his assistant, Finn Adler, to help him. Finn was a fresh-faced young man, with floppy red hair and full-rimmed glasses. Ryan stood up and said, “If you will excuse us.”

Orion and Lacey left the medical examiner to finish his work while his assistant and another technician helped move the body onto the gurney. They loaded the body into the medical examiner’s truck and drove off in the direction of the precinct.

“Morning, captain,” a male voice said.

Orion turned to see his senior detective, Preston Novak, approaching with an evidence bag that contained a cellphone and wallet. He was in his early thirties, black-brown hair, and amber eyes. The detective pulled out the wallet from the bag and grabbed the woman’s driver’s license.

“Morning, detective,” Orion said in return. “Do you have an ID on the victim?”

Preston nodded and handed Orion the thin card. “Victim is Jillian Monaghan, age twenty-one, and an art major at UMass Boston. She was out with friends at the nightclub Good Life when she went outside to make a phone call; she never came back,” he said. His eyes shifted over to Lacey who was looking over Orion’s shoulder, taking a quick peek at the license.

“Has anyone talked to the victim's friends?” Orion asked as he handed back the license to Preston.

The detective nodded. “Esposito and Underwood have already gone to meet with the victim’s friends. They said they would call if anything came up. And I’ve already talked to a few of the bartenders at the nightclub to see who was working last night.” Preston said. He slipped the license into the wallet and then back into the evidence bag.

“Did they say anything about anyone paying particular attention to Miss Monaghan?” Lacey asked.

Preston cleared his throat and then directed his attention to Lacey. “No, according to them, she kept close with her friends until she went outside. They never saw her come back into the club,” the detective replied. "They assumed she took a cab home."

Orion nodded. “Call Edwards and have him run a trace on the last number she called,” he said. He then noticed Preston’s gaze was set on Lacey. The captain cleared his throat and gestured to the inspector beside him, once again having to introduce the new recruit to another member of his precinct. “Detective Novak, this is Detective Inspector Lacey Barton from London. Inspector, my senior detective, Preston Novak.”

Preston sent the blonde woman a respectable nod and shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Inspector. I take it this is your first crime scene in the States?” he asked once they broke the handshake.

Lacey nodded. “It is. I was surprised that it was a murder,” she replied.

“Well, I hope that this investigation will be quick,” Preston said to Lacey. He turned to Orion, his expression turned serious. “I spoke to the manager of the nightclub and he said he would turn over security tapes from last night. I'll have Atchison take a look of those tapes.”

The captain nodded. “Of course. That’ll be all, Novak,” he said.

Preston bowed his head and left the pair standing in the middle of the alleyway. A few of the technicians continued to bag and tag other pieces of evidence like gum wrappers and other samples while others took photographs of the crime scene. The captain watched them before he began to look around the alleyway, in search for any other clues. His eyes looked over the alley’s walls and took in all the graffiti that was littered on the red brick. There was a great deal of stains and smudges on the walls, samples of them had already been taken by the field techs.

“I think he was hiding behind the dumpster before he grabbed her, captain,” Lacey said aloud. The captain turned to face the inspector who was standing near the dumpster. “There’s no other place he could have been hiding.” She pointed in the direction of the captain. “She would’ve seen him because of the street lamps.”

Orion turned around and saw the two street lamps, one by the alleyway’s entrance and another near the end of the alley. The captain and inspector strode towards the dumpster where Orion knelt down. He searched for any signs of the killer’s presence but found nothing. Not even a candy bar wrapper. For a dumpster, it was pretty clean. He looked up at Lacey and then stood up.

“Then he wasn’t waiting long. He must’ve spotted her in the club and left before she went outside,” Orion said. “He didn’t leave the murder weapon behind so he must’ve taken it with him.” He checked his watch and looked to Lacey. “We best get back to the precinct and notify next of kin.”

The two left the crime scene and drove back to the station. After going through the standard security procedure and paperwork they made their way to the elevators. Lacey leaned against the wall of the elevator while Orion pressed the button for the fourth floor. When the doors closed, Orion stepped back and watched as the numbers began to increase... 1... 2...

“You know,” the inspector murmured. “I have to say that your file said that you were - ”

Just as they passed the second floor, Orion pressed the emergency stop button on the elevator, causing the lights to go out and the elevator to stop moving. Lacey jerked forward and grabbed onto the elevator’s walls in alarm. The emergency power flickered on above them, like a homing beacon. The blonde woman glared at him and straightened her posture.

The captain sharply turned to Lacey. “You read my file?” he asked.

Lacey appeared offended and clenched her hands into tight fists. “I thought it would be best if I read about my future captain rather than be blindsided, sir,” she explained. “In fact, it was Chief Parks who sent your file to me. So, before you ask the question, the answer is yes, I do know what happened five years ago. And for that, I want to offer my condolences.”

Orion stared at Lacey for a moment, her green eyes meeting his own blue ones. He waited until the inspector pressed the emergency stop button again and the elevator began to move again. The captain remained silent, his eyes now on the elevator doors. Lacey unfolded her arms and dropped them at her sides; this wasn’t exactly how she pictured her first day.

Both fell into an awkward silence, unsure of what to say to each other. Orion felt vulnerable after being told his file was read and even worse betrayed his longtime friend would be the one to encourage it. Some things were meant to never see the light of day again. He was sure to bring that issue up when he and Chief Parks met again.

The elevator came to a rumbling stop soon after, the doors squeaking open to show the booking floor of the precinct, although something seemed really out of place. Especially when a brutish man with wide eyes and his hands cuffed behind his back ran around the corner and, made a beeline for the two of them with a red-faced officer appearing behind him. “SOMEONE STOP HIM!” Another man bellowed as a second officer appeared.

“Inspector - ”

Orion made a grab for her in hopes of pulling her out of the way but the inspector was too quick for him. Instead, she rushed forward and took the captain by surprise. As the large man approached them, the blonde woman slid forward and took out the large man at the knees. He fell forward and hit the ground but that didn’t seem to stop him. He managed to get to his feet again, lunging at Lacey again who dodged his attack and punched him hard in the jaw. The sudden blow stumbled back but did not fall this time. Before he could make one last attempt, she sprang forward, grabbed the man’s cuffed wrists, twisted them and shoved him onto the ground, face-first. She straddled his waist and let out a string of curses under her breath as she continued to shove his face into the tile floor. When the two officers approached, Lacey got back up to her feet and motioned for the duo to take the convict away. The two officers slowly drug him to his feet again and pulled him away from the scene.

“Holy shit,” said a voice from behind her.

Orion looked up to see Jasper Delaney, head of special operations, with a bewildered look on his dark skinned face. He then folded his arms over his chest and whistled, shaking his head in disbelief. Lacey turned with her cheeks flushed from the sudden burst of adrenaline. She straightened her jacket and took several steps back to stand next to Orion.

“Damn,” Jasper said. “Where the hell did ya learn how to fight like that?”

Lacey laughed. “You learn a few things when growing up with three older brothers,” she answered shrugging. She strode forward and extended her hand for him to shake. “You must be Lieutenant Jasper Delaney. I’m Detective Inspector Lacey Barton.”

“Just call me Jazz,” came the reply. Jazz’s dark brown eyes flickered with amusement. “So, you’re the inspector from London?” He shook her hand. “Yeah, Prowler told me about ya. But he sure as hell didn’t say anything about ya being a damn badass.” His eyes shifted over to Orion who still stood in shock. “Mind if I recruit her for special ops, cap? Pretty please?” 

Orion’s expression quickly changed as he composed himself and walked up behind Lacey. “I’m sorry but the inspector is under my command,” he said. He lifted his gaze to Lacey who was now massaging her knuckles from the punch she had delivered. “Impressive display there, inspector.”

“Thank you, captain,” she said with a grimace. Lacey bit her lip. “Now, could I please have an icepack? My hand is starting to throb,” she stated with a sheepish smile.

“Of course,” Orion turned to Jazz. “Would you take the inspector to get an icepack? If you need me, I will be in my office. I need to notify the next of kin for our victim.” The captain quickly left Lacey in the company of the dark-skinned lieutenant who shook his head at the retreating captain.

Jazz then motioned for the inspector to follow him which she gladly did. They made their way into the break room where two other men were sitting drinking coffee. Both were special operations, judging by the amount of gear they were wearing: dark gray cargo pants, black t-shirts, steel-toed combat boots, and an assortment of weapons hidden on their person. One of them, a young man in his early twenties with brown hair, stopped drinking his coffee and looked up at Lacey. His companion, roughly around the same age with black hair, tied into a ponytail, and tanned skin, turned as well and placed his cup on the small table, his dark eyes sweeping over the inspector in mild astonishment. Jazz silently acknowledged the two of them, before grabbing an ice pack from the freezer and handing it to Lacey who placed it on her aching hand. Both men watched her pass, the dark haired man’s gaze lasting a little bit longer than his companion.

“I wish you would have told me we were having the company of the womanly sort, Jazz or else I would have changed into more suitable attire for the occasion,” an Italian accent flavored his words as he spoke in such a high-mannered way.

His boss shook his head, chuckling. “Only ‘cause I know she’s way out of ya league, Rossi.”

The other man shrugged, looking amused. “It has not stopped me before.”

Lacey couldn’t help but stare at the man in shock. The brunet smacked his companion on the shoulder and glared at him. “And you wonder why you’re still single.” His hazel eyes met Lacey’s green ones in apology.

“Sorry about my partner,” the brunet muttered. He sent the man across him an icy glare. “He doesn’t exactly have an off button.” His said partner only rolled his dark eyes and drank his coffee in silence.

The inspector removed the ice pack from her hand and laughed. She brushed back her hair and shook her head. Lacey directed her attention to the black haired man and shrugged.

“Oh no, I’m incredibly flattered by your futile attempt but I must, unfortunately, admit that you are not my type. I prefer a man who is both a leader and who is loyal to his men. Not a womanizer,” she said with a grin.

The man shrugged not at all fazed, still with a faint smirk on his lips. “Give me time and I can show you just how much of a ‘leader’ I can be.”

The other man moved to smack his friend again but he was quick to duck, catching his hand and pinning it to the table. “Did you really think that was going to work the second time?” he asked him dryly.

Lacey chuckled and placed the ice pack on her hand again. It’s like working with children only much more entertaining and less drool, she thought with a smile. She pointed a finger to the man who had been flirting with her. “You must be Mathieu Rossi. And you,” she said, turning to the brunet, “must be Blake North.” The blonde extended her uninjured hand. “Detective Inspector Lacey Barton; I just transferred from London.”

“A pleasure,” the newly named Mathieu said. He smirked, took Lacey’s hand and shook it firmly.

Blake then shook the inspector’s hand after freeing it from his partner’s grasp. “First day on the job?” he asked before downing the last of his coffee and tossing it into the trashcan by the door.

“Yes, actually,” she replied.

The sniper opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by his commanding officer. “Come on ya two, we better get down to the basement. We got some work to do and that means cleanin’ your damn rifle, North.” Jazz said, taking a sip of his coffee. The sniper groaned and rolled his eyes much to his friend’s amusement. The lieutenant threw the inspector a grin. “I take it ya can make it to Paxton’s office on your own?”

The inspector nodded and looked at the three special ops members smiling at them. Jazz led the duo out of the break room, leaving Lacey to continue icing her hand. After the numbing cold started to placate the throbbing, she placed the pack into the freezer again and left the break room, walking down the hall to Orion’s office. She poked her head through the door and saw the captain placing his phone on the desk. He looked up at her and gestured to her hand.

“How’s your hand?” he asked.

Lacey stepped fully into the office and closed the door behind her. She looked down at her hand and gently moved her fingers. It was sore and was going to be that way for some time, but it too would heal. Orion pulled out a drawer and tossed the inspector a bandage roll. Lacey thanked him and began to wrap her hand with the bandage. When she finished, she slipped off her leather jacket and draped it over her arm.

“It’ll be sore but I’ve been through worse,” she replied. “Were you able to contact her parents?”

Orion nodded and stretched. “They should be here tomorrow morning; they’re flying out from Michigan,” he murmured. He folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. “This has always been my least favorite part of the job; telling someone that you lost a child.” He unfolded his arms and ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s difficult, I know,” Lacey spoke. Orion opened his eyes and looked up at the blonde, his expression curious. She stepped closer to the desk and shrugged. “I’ve never liked it either but it gets easier. Bringing their child’s killer to justice is one of the best feelings in the world, captain.”

They stood there in silence before the captain’s door opened and revealed a young man by the name of Percy Edwards who had sandy blonde hair and glasses. He wore a sweater vest and gray trousers. Orion stood up and Lacey quickly turned to face the young forensic specialist.

“Sir, I ran a trace on the last number your victim called and it came back to a Darren Ward,” Percy said, handing the captain a folder. “He has a record and has been arrested on multiple charges but his most recent was assault. He’s been in and out of prison since he was twenty.”

“Did you already notify Novak?” Orion asked as he skimmed over the file.

Percy nodded. “I did, sir. He’s gone to bring Ward in, should be here in an hour.”

The captain closed the folder. “Thank you, Mr. Edwards.” The young scientist exited the office and closed the door behind him. Lacey looked to Orion who placed the folder on his desk and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. She slipped on her leather jacket again and folded her arms over her chest.

“What would an art student be doing with a convict?” the inspector asked.

“I’m not sure,” came the reply. “But, we’ll find out soon enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character List:
> 
> Ryan Hawthorne: Ratchet  
> Finn Adler: First Aid  
> Preston Novak: Prowl  
> Jasper "Jazz" Delaney: Jazz  
> Mathieu Rossi: Mirage  
> Blake North: Bluestreak  
> Percival "Percy" Edwards: Perceptor


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

 

All the other tables were empty but certainly did not mean that the morgue itself was empty. Locked away in the coolers were several other bodies but the one of primary focus was the recent murder victim. And there in the middle of the morgue was their murder victim, Jillian Monaghan, who lay on the cool, metal slab with a sheet covering her body. The pair walked over to the table and waited until Ryan’s office door opened with him grumbling under his breath. A string of “hell”, “damn”, “stupid son of a bitch” followed the examiner as he stalked into his morgue. Lacey quirked a brow as the medical examiner slipped off his coat and continued to mutter as he walked towards them.

“If I had known you two were coming I would have tidied up the place,” Ryan muttered as he approached the table.

“I know, I should’ve called,” Orion replied with a sigh. Lacey held back a smile in response.

Ryan huffed. “There is a reason why I prefer talking to the dead rather than the living,” he grumbled. He pulled on a pair of latex gloves and gestured to the covered body in front of them. “They don't complain.”

Orion sighed again, patience wearing thin. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Do you have anything for us?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” he said with a smirk. “I wanted to exam the body before I did the autopsy and I found something very interesting on her lower back.” He pulled down the sheet to where it would rest just below the victim’s lower back while still being discreet.

Lacey quirked a brow. “A tattoo?” the inspector asked.

And sure enough, there on her lower back was a tattoo or a “tramp stamp” to some. At first look, there was no true design of the ink. In fact, most would probably say that it was either just a bunch of lines that twirled around her lower back or something akin to a tribal tattoo with no significance but neither was the case.

“That’s what I thought at first. Then I decided to take a closer look; it’s not just a tattoo,” Ryan said as he pulled out a magnifying glass. He handed it to Lacey who eyed it warily. “Take a look.” The blonde woman took it and peered through the glass; her face twisted into confusion. Suddenly zoomed in there was something else. Hidden within the lines of the tattoo was a pair of initials.

“M.T.?” she read aloud. She handed the magnifying glass to Orion to see before he handed it back to Ryan.

“Could be her boyfriend’s initials,” Ryan suggested with a shrug.

Lacey snorted. “Even I’m not that stupid to have my boyfriend’s initials tattooed near my arse,” the inspector muttered. She looked over to the medical examiner and captain who shared the same look of confusion mixed with curiosity.

“Did I walk in at a bad time?” a voice said. All eyes turned to see Hector Esposito, a muscular man of Latino heritage, poking his head in the morgue. He wore a dark green t-shirt, jeans, and boots.

“Sorry, couldn’t help but overhear you guys. But according to her friends, your vic wasn’t dating anyone,” Hector said. The man waved a manila folder in his left hand. “I had Brendan call the university and had them fax over her records. Just got them a few minutes ago.”

The man approached the trio and handed the folder to Orion who opened it and began to skim through it. The captain then handed it to Lacey who began to read the file.

“Well, she was incredibly bright,” she said. She handed the folder back to Hector. “She had perfect marks in all of her classes, several scholarships from both her high school and anonymous donors when she was accepted into the university and had a few appearances in local art galleries. If I didn’t know any better, she was your typical striving art student.”

Orion folded his arms over his chest and looked to Hector. “Have you been to her apartment?”

The other man shook his head. “Not yet, I was about to head out after I gave you her records. Apparently, she lives in the Devonshire apartments and has been for little over a year.” He shook his head and let out a low whistle. “I’d have to give up my salary to get into one of those places.”

Ryan was the first to cut in. “Then she must have had help pay for her apartment. The scholarships alone would only pay for her schooling.”

The captain then glanced over to Hector. “Did she have a job?” he asked.

“Yeah, she worked as a Starbucks barista on Summer Street. Brendan said he would go and talk to her manager and come back when he was finished,” Hector said, leaning against one of the autopsy tables. “I’m hoping he’s nice enough to bring me coffee.”

Ryan immediately turned on the detective and sent him a narrowed look. Hector held up his hands in surrender and stepped away from the metal slab with a murmured apology. Orion shook his head with a chuckle and then his phone began to vibrate from his pocket. He fished it out and excused himself from the group. When Orion exited out of the morgue, Hector leaned forward and extended a hand for Lacey to shake.

“Hector Esposito,” he said. “But my friends call me Espo, except for the captain and Novak who insist on calling me, Hector or Esposito.”

The inspector laughed and shook his hand. “Lacey Barton,” she replied. “It’s nice to meet you, detective.”

Hector’s lips turned up into a grin as the captain strode into the morgue again.

“Novak just brought in our suspect and has asked me to help with questioning him,” Orion said as he slipped his phone into his trouser pocket. He looked up at Lacey and then shifted his gaze to Hector. 

“Inspector, would you like to accompany Detective Esposito to the victim’s apartment?”

The blonde woman was caught by surprise; her eyes widened. Wait, what? She was quick to compose herself and straightened her posture. “Uhm, are you sure, sir? You don’t need any help in the interrogation room?” Lacey asked, slightly flustered. 

The captain turned to her. “Detective Novak and I can handle the interrogation. Go with Esposito and see what you can find,” Orion looked to Hector who was hiding a smile. The captain quirked a brow to the detective and said, “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the company, right detective?”

Lacey gave Hector a suspicious side glance; was what he said a good thing or a bad thing? The Latino detective shrugged and replied with, “If you say so, sir.”

Orion nodded and then looked to Ryan who held his hands up in surrender and walked away from the autopsy table. The captain forced himself not to smirk and turned his attention to Lacey. 

“Call if you two need anything.” And just like that, Orion turned on his heel, walked out of autopsy and from their sight.

“So, how long is the drive?” Lacey asked offhandedly.

“I was thinking we walk; the apartments are just a few blocks away. ‘Sides might as well get to know each other,” Hector said with a grin. He started making his way towards the exit. “Plus, it’s a waste of gas anyway.”

She raised an eyebrow as she went to grab her jacket off the hook. “Is this your way of charming a lady?” The woman observed, throwing it on, careful of her hand.

Hector shrugged. “I get that a lot, ma’am,” he said glancing at her before the two made their way out of autopsy and down the hall.

“Please, don’t call me ma’am,” Lacey muttered. She sent Hector a narrowed look who in return laughed and nodded in compliance. They went into the elevators and exited on the main floor of the building. Right out into the crowded street, and was off to their victim’s apartment.

* * *

When they arrived at Devonshire Apartments, Lacey couldn’t help but stand in awe. The building towered over them and skyrocketed to stand a height of 42 floors. Dozens of apartments and not to mention the luxurious penthouses on the 41st and 42nd floor and like the outside of the building, the inside was just as elegant. The blonde couldn’t help but marvel at all the marble floors, sculptures, water fountains; the works. Hector and Lacey approached the main desk where the receptionist sat talking on the main landline. The Latino leaned across the marble counter and flashed the young woman a grin that just screamed flirtation. Lacey held back a laugh and ran a hand through her hair. This was going to be interesting. The receptionist smiled back before she finished up her conversation and hung up the phone. She steepled her fingers and leaned forward.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

The detective fished out his badge and held it out for the woman to see. “Detective Esposito and this is Inspector Barton; Boston PD. Could you look up the room number for Jillian Monaghan?”

The receptionist tilted her head. “Is Miss Monaghan in some kind of trouble?”

“She was murdered,” Lacey cut in bluntly. The receptionist gasped. Hector slowly turned to the inspector with a look of, “Really?” written over his face; the blonde inspector ignored the gawking man. “Could you take us to her room, please?”

The receptionist nodded and stood up from behind the counter. “Of course, would you care if I grabbed my manager?”

Hector shook his head and watched as the young woman walked through a door with a plaque over the door that read, Manager. It was not long before she returned with a man, in his late 40s with graying hair and a trimmed beard.

The man extended his hand and shook it with Hector. “I’m Victor Blanc, the manager of Devonshire Apartments. Now, what is this about a murder?” the manager asked.

Before Hector could speak, Lacey was the one to cut in.

“One of your residents, Jillian Monaghan, was found dead this morning and we need to search her apartment for any evidence.” she said.

“Very well, if you two will please follow me.”

The manager motioned for his receptionist to go back to her desk and continue working. He turned to the detective and inspector before gesturing for them to follow him. The pair followed Mr. Blanc to the elevators where they were taken to the 42nd floor of the building. The manager led the pair to one of the rooms that read PH302 and unlocked the door for them.

“It’s a shame she’s dead; she was a really nice girl. She even had the first three months of rent paid for when she moved in and was always on time with her payments. I even bought one of her paintings; she was incredibly talented,” the manager said with a shake of his head. “If there is anything else you need, do not hesitate to call the front desk; Monica will patch you to me.”

Lacey smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Blanc,” she said. “That’ll be all.”

The manager closed the door behind him and was gone. The two ventured deeper into the penthouse. Lacey heard her combat boots tapping on the tiled floors as she walked ahead. When they entered the kitchen and dining area, Lacey felt she had stepped through a time machine and was taken back to Italy. The kitchen had a low, cove-vaulted brick ceiling, hex terra-cotta flooring and rustic sage cabinetry. Copper pots and pans were hung on the walls. And a wine rack sat on the marble counter top of the island.

“She certainly had good taste,” Lacey murmured as Hector walked over to the kitchen and began to look through some of the drawers. Her eyes caught onto one of the wine bottles in the wine rack. A  _Louis Roederer_ , a very  expensive bottle of rose wine sat proudly on the top rack. “And a very good taste in wine too. Most of these bottles run for €1,300...”

“Mind convertin’ that for me?” asked Hector from the fridge.

The inspector smiled. “Well, if my calculation is correct about $1,400.” Hector slowly turned to Lacey who had her arms folded over her chest with a look of “Are you serious?” written over his face. The woman nodded and then began to look around the apartment some more. She looked to her left and found a set of stairs that led the lower level of the penthouse.

The inspector turned to Hector and gestured to the stairs. “I’ll take the downstairs, you take the kitchen and living room?” she asked.

“Call if you need anything.” The man said, continuing his search.

Lacey turned towards the stairs and made her way down to the lower level of the penthouse, coming to a small hallway at the bottom of them. She pulled out her latex gloves, slipped them on her fingers, and opened the first door she saw that was on her right. She poked her head through the door and then walked fully into what appeared to be the victim’s art studio. The inspector was almost overwhelmed by the sheer amount of color that filled the room.

Reds, yellows, blues, and pinks were dashed over the walls in a frenzy. There was no true design to the walls just splattered paint. Dozens of tarps (all covered in dried paint) were thrown onto the floor, covering up the elegant ash wood flooring. Several portraits hid in one corner of the room while other canvases were blank. Dark wood French doors opened to a private balcony, providing sweeping views of the Boston Harbor.

The inspector walked over to the one easel in the room and found herself staring at the brightly colored canvas. The victim had painted a picture of swirling lines that ranged in color, from orange to white, to green, to even coral. Thankfully for Lacey, it was dry. She looked at the date in the corner of the canvas: 6/9/16. 

“She must’ve painted it yesterday.” the inspector murmured.

She strode past the canvas and began to search through the victim’s table where most of her supplies lay. A few paintbrushes cleaned from yesterday’s painting session, and a sketchpad lying on the table. Curious, Lacey flipped through some of the pages. Most were of the Boston Harbor with some sketches of boats heading out to the water. Some were of people walking together. A few birds nestled in the trees. As Lacey continued her search, something else caught the inspector by surprise.

It was a sketch of a man. Much older than the victim, though. Most likely in his late twenties or early thirties. A strong jaw, stern expression, and furrowed brows; he was scowling. Lacey flipped to another page and saw the man again. But this time, his expression was relaxed. His eyes were gentle half-lidded as if he had just woken up, his lips quirked into a smile. A more intimate expression. A boyfriend? Again, the inspector flipped through some of the pages and the same man appeared at least once on each page. _Alright, I’m starting to lean to the idea this bloke is her boyfriend..._  She closed the sketchpad and strode out of the studio.

When she entered the hallway again, she peered into the open door next to her and found Hector searching through the bedroom. Again, Lacey was impressed. The room was fixed with a wood-beamed ceiling, reclaimed larch hardwood floors, and a neutral color palette. The white walls and linens allowed the Old World-inspired furnishings to provide visual interest in the room. With an ebony finish and detailed hand carvings, the antique four-poster queen sized bed tempted anyone who wished for a good night’s sleep.

“Find anything?” Hector asked from his spot by the closet.

“I did actually, a sketchpad,” she replied, waving the sketchpad in her hand. “I was looking through it when a man began to pop up in some of the pages; I’m thinking this bloke could be her boyfriend.”

She handed the sketchpad to Hector who began to go through it.

“I see what you mean,” muttered Hector. “Something was going on between them.”

“Did you find anything?” she asked.

Hector shook his head, his eyes glued to the sketchpad’s pages. “Nothing important upstairs,” he answered. “Just the usual. Had some bills on the coffee table, magazines in the bathroom, you get the picture. I figured most of her stuff would be in her room so I came down to check.”

Lacey allowed the detective to continue flipping through the pages and walked over to the nightstand and grabbed a few of the envelopes sitting there. She went through them, most of them bills and invitations to galleries. The inspector huffed when nothing much of interest caught her eye, before placing them back on the nightstand, walking over to the victim’s second closet. The blonde woman quirked a brow when she noticed that this closet had a lock on it. Taking it into her hands, she turned to the detective.

“Espo, why would someone need a lock on their closet?”

Still looking through the sketchpad, he just shrugged. “They wouldn’t unless they’re trying to hide something.”

“So, why does our victim have a lock on her closet?”

Hector stopped his skimming, looked up, and closed the sketchbook. He walked over to Lacey and looked down at the lock, his gaze shifted to hers. He tossed the sketchbook onto the bed and knelt down in front of the lock and began to inspect it. _Piece of cake,_ he thought. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a lock-picking kit. Lacey’s hand shot out and grabbed Hector by the shoulder.

“You’re not thinking of picking the lock, are you?” she asked.

The detective’s lips curled into a grin. “You can turn around if you want. I won’t be offended.”

Lacey rolled her eyes and released her grip on his shoulder. Hector chuckled as the inspector turned away with her arms folded over her chest. He opened up the kit and picked out one of his many tools and began to work on picking the lock. Lacey waited several moments before a resounding click was heard. She turned and Hector was now standing, tucking his kit away and waving the lock in front of his face.

“Now, why don’t we see what our vic was hiding?”

Hector opened the closet door and both the inspector and detective were taken by surprise. Upon entering, they were shocked to see dozens of hangers that were holding blouses, jackets, sweaters, dresses, skirts, slacks, and handbags. All were in a variety of color and names like Prada, Gucci, Vera Wang, even Louis Vuitton. Lacey felt a sting of jealousy surge through her veins seeing the designer names; she was lucky to have a Vera Wang cashmere sweater in her wardrobe, given to her by her mother.

“How the bloody hell did she afford this?” Lacey questioned in amazement.

“Her Johns,” came Hector’s flat toned reply. “I think our vic was a prostitute.”

Lacey turned to Hector, a blonde brow raised. “With these clothes? I find that hard to believe.” 

He jerked his head over. “Don’t believe me? Come take a look at this.”

The blonde inspector approached the detective who was kneeling down and bent over a black duffel bag, opening it to reveal the contents to her. Lacey’s green eyes widened in shock as the detective beside her shook his head and let out a low whistle. Inside were stacks upon stacks of cold hard cash. By estimate, there had to be close to over a hundred thousand inside the duffel bag. Hector glanced up at Lacey stood stunned, mouth agape.

“I think we just found ourselves a motive for murder.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character List: 
> 
> Hector Esposito: Hound  
> Brendan Underwood: Bumblebee
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment and kudos!


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Once again, I own nothing. 
> 
> Important Terms:  
> Rap sheet - a criminal record

* * *

If there was one place in the whole precinct Preston enjoyed most, it was the interrogation room. Sure, it wasn’t the most comfortable room. It was sparsely furnished with rather plain amenities, just a table, and two metal chairs. But it was quiet and he liked that. There were times when he would sneak away from his desk (especially on a tough case or just to escape Jazz’s antics), slip into the room, lie on the table, and take a nap.

At the moment, however, Preston was standing outside of the one-way mirror with his captain beside him. Inside the room, Darren Ward was leaning back in one of the chairs, his hands folded behind his head and his eyes closed, most likely asleep. Orion glanced over to the lead detective, Preston, who had his arms crossed over his chest and continued to stare at the man in the other room. From behind them, the door opened and both the detective and captain turned to see Jazz walk in. The lieutenant closed the door behind him and walked up to stand beside Orion.

“Mind if I watch?” he asked.

“I have no objection to it,” Orion murmured. He looked over to Preston. “Novak? It’s your call.”

The man in question shrugged. “Be my guest,” he answered quietly. Orion handed Preston a folder with a nod. The lead detective rolled up the sleeves of his button-down shirt and bowed his head to the captain and lieutenant. “If you two will excuse me, I have an interrogation to conduct.”

“This should be interesting,” Jazz murmured to Orion who chuckled in response. “I have a feelin’ Prowler here is gonna use his ‘bad cop’ first.”

The detective sent them both a dark look, directed mostly to Jazz, before he opened the door to the interrogation room, stepped in, and slammed it behind him. The mirror shook from the door slam, causing the suspect in the room to jolt awake and almost fall out of the chair.

“I’m sorry about that; I didn’t know you were asleep,” Preston said, approaching the table.

Darren snorted and cast the detective a glare. “Somehow I doubt that,” he said. He folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his gaze to the detective. “Look, I came down here willingly to answer your questions and seeing that you’re just messing with me, I’ll just go.” The man stood up and made his way towards the door but was stopped when Preston blocked the exit.

“Sit down Mr. Ward,” the man snapped. Darren rolled his eyes and sat back down. He folded his arms over his chest and stared up at the detective; defiance was practically seeping from his body.

On the other side of the mirror, the dark-skinned lieutenant turned down the volume of the speaker and glanced over at Orion. The young captain watched Preston sit down from across Darren; his expression solemn. 

“You’re thinkin’ again.” Jazz said.

“What makes you say that?”

“Ya got that same look on your face,” he answered. "The one you get when you stare at a case file. Or the coffee machine."  Orion said nothing; his eyes remained on the detective questioning Darren. Jazz huffed and folded his arms over his chest. “Alright, I hate to be the one to tell ya this and it’s none of my business but sir, ya need to get laid.”

The captain’s eyes widened. He turned to Jazz who was now grinning broadly at him, arms folded over his chest. “Excuse me?” he asked.

“Ya heard me,” Jazz said. “Ya need to get laid captain; probably sooner than never.”

Orion disapprovingly looked at his lieutenant frowning, glad for the dim lighting of the room due to the slight creep of red rising in his cheeks. He coughed into his hand uncomfortably as he turned his attention back to Preston on the other side of the glass.

“I believe this topic is hardly inappropriate while watching an interrogation of a potential murder suspect.”

Jazz shrugged. Like that’s stopped me before, he thought with a chuckle. The officer rubbed his hand against his shirt before looking at his blunt fingernails afterwards as his grin only grew. He then glanced over to Orion who was now looking at him with furrowed brows.

“Oh, I am inclined to disagree with ya there, sir,” Jazz said. “I believe this is the perfect time to speak of such things. Besides Prowler has this interrogation covered; ya know how he loves to make the suspects squirm.”

The captain narrowed his gaze to the grinning lieutenant and lowered his voice. “My romantic life is none of your business, Delaney,” he said. But, Jazz was not wrong. He had not been on a date in over a year. And his last relationship, well, it did not end well for either party. Orion snapped out of his thoughts and snapped, “This conversation is over.” He turned his attention to the interrogation at hand and huffed.

From behind him, he could hear Jazz snort in response and say, “You’re no fun” under his breath. Orion knew for a fact that the dark skinned man was not going to give up so easily; that was simply not in his nature. He had known the man too long not to know this sort of thing. It was only a matter of time for Jazz would become involved and take matters into his own hands and Orion dreaded for that day.

In the interrogation room, the detective opened the folder in his hand and turned it to where Darren could look at it. It was an outgoing call list with the victim’s cell phone number at the top. The man pointed to a particular number at the bottom of the page.

“We went through the victim’s phone records and the last number she called before she was killed was yours.” Preston leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “Would you mind telling me what you two talked about?”

“She wanted to know about this gallery I was gonna be in next week. So, I gave her the address and I hung up.”

“Where were you when she called you?”

“At my studio on Somerset.”

“And how did you meet Jillian Monaghan?”

The man across from him sighed. “We met at an art gallery about a year ago,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Some of my work was being displayed and we started talking. She liked some of them so I gave her my studio’s address in case she wanted to come by and see some more.”

“Was there a relationship between the two of you?”

Darren shook his head. “No, we were just friends.”

Preston was not convinced; there was something that this man was not telling and he was determined to find out what it was.

* * *

After spending several hours at the victim’s penthouse apartment, Lacey and Hector finally arrived at the precinct with a box of the victim’s personal items and placed it on the Latino’s desk. Most of the evidence collected from the victim’s apartment was now downstairs with forensics and being analyzed by Percy and the other techs. Lacey slipped off her leather jacket and placed it on Hector’s chair. The two looked over to a slumped figure who sat across from Hector’s desk.

Hector shook his head and walked over to the slumped figure. He tapped the man’s shoulder and then shook him. “Hey, you okay Brendan?”

The man moaned and grumbled in response. Hector snorted and rolled his eyes. A very tired looking Brendan Underwood stirred before he looked up from his desk. The younger man rubbed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, stretching his arms over his head and cracking his back, running a hand through his blond hair.

“Yeah, I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. Neighbor’s dog wouldn’t shut up,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. He let out another long yawn and shook his head, hoping to wake himself up again. He then pointed to the two boxes on Hector’s desk. “What’s that?”

“Victim’s personal belongings,” replied Lacey. She pulled out the victim’s address book and began to flip through some of the pages. “How did it go with the victim’s manager? Did you get anything useful?”

Brendan grabbed his notepad and flipped through some of the pages. “He just said she was a hard worker and was always on time. She never called in sick, never took a personal day, or a vacation! Had a lot of regulars come in too,” he paused for a moment. “Oh, she made really good Frappuccinos as well. And before you ask Espo, I got you that bagel you like so much. It’s in the fridge so you better make sure no one has eaten it yet.”

Hector’s eyes instantly lit up. He hopped off his desk and raced off to the break room. Lacey chuckled and looked over to Brendan who was snickering and shaking his head at his partner’s hasty retreat; he glanced up at Lacey.

“So, you like it here?” Brendan asked.

Lacey nodded. “I do," she said. "I have to admit Boston is very different from London.”

“I’ll take that as a good thing,” replied Brendan. “You find anything at the vic’s apartment?”

She narrowed her gaze to the Latino who was returning from the break room, silently munching on his bagel. Lacey jerked a thumb in his direction. “Your partner believes that she was a prostitute.”

When Hector finished the remaining bite of his bagel, he licked his fingers and sat on his desk again. “She was a prostitute,” he stated firmly. “How the hell do you think she could afford that apartment? And you saw her closet!”

“She could have had a rich boyfriend,” Lacey suggested. 

"Friends say she wasn't seeing anyone," Hector cut in.

"It would not be the first time a woman has lied about a man in their life." came the reply. 

Brendan quirked a blond brow. “A prostitute?” Curious, the young detective scooted one of the boxes over and started rummaging through it. “What gave you that impression - oh, I see what you mean.” His face went scarlet as he pulled out a lace pair of woman’s lingerie that did not leave much room to the imagination. He cleared his throat and dropped it back in, hurriedly setting the box as far away as possible much to the amusement of his partner and the inspector. Both were snickering in spite of the young detective’s scowl that was directed towards them.

“So, where’s the captain?” Hector asked.

“Interrogation,” Brendan answered, rubbing his eyes. He was desperate to burn the image of the underwear from his brain at this point. He grabbed the file on Darren Ward that lay on his desk and handed it to the Latino. “Novak brought in this guy a couple hours ago and made him sit there. According to his file, he’s a real piece of work too. Got a lot couple of priors, including assault.”

Hector opened the file and his eyes immediately went to the mug shot of the ex-convict.  _Wait a sec..._  His brown eyes widened in surprise.  _No way._  He quickly closed the folder and dove into one of the boxes. He grabbed the victim’s sketchpad from the evidence bag and then began to flip through the many filled pages. Lacey, who had finished looking through the victim’s address book, quirked a brow to the frantic working detective.

“Everything alright, Espo?” she asked curiously.

He didn’t answer her as he stopped on a page of the sketchbook. He differentiated his gaze between it and the mug shot in the manila folder. He muttered, "son of a bitch," under his breath before practically running out of the room much to the surprise of Lacey and Brendan. The two left behind exchanged glances before they jumped from their seats and chased after Hector who sprinted into interrogation, startling both Jazz and Orion. In the interrogation room, Preston was now leaning in his chair and had his arms folded his chest.

“I find that hard to believe, Mr. Ward. Miss Monaghan was a pretty girl and ten years younger than you,” the detective said with a shrug of his shoulders. “You must have found her attractive.”

Darren glared. “We were friends,” he growled out. “Yeah, I’ll admit that she was pretty but she had a boyfriend.”

Hector shook his head and snatched onto the door handle. “Like hell, she did.”

“Esposito!” The captain reached out to grab Hector by the arm but was too late. The other detective stormed into interrogation and slammed the door behind him. Preston, startled, whirled around to face Hector who was staring down at Darren with dark eyes. He threw the sketchpad onto the table, placed both hands on the table, and leaned forward.

“If she had a boyfriend, you mind tellin’ us why the hell your face is nearly on every page her damn sketchbook?”

The interrogation room grew quiet; no one dared to breathe a word. In an instant, Darren’s whole demeanor changed. His grey eyes locked onto the sketchpad where he saw his own unmistakable portrait staring back at him. He hesitantly reached out and touched the page, a faint smile coming to his lips. The man slowly drew his gaze up to the Latino detective who had stepped back from the table and Preston was now standing beside him.

“Now is the time to tell us the truth, Mr. Ward,” Preston said. “I would hate to call your parole officer and tell him that you lied to the police.”

Darren did not respond; his eyes dropped down onto the sketchpad again.

“They were together,” Lacey whispered. She had been watching this whole time and said nothing at this point. 

She turned to the captain and asked, “Sir, with your permission, I’d like to go in there and speak with Mr. Ward. I believe I can get him to talk to us about Miss Monaghan.” 

Orion looked past Lacey’s shoulder and watched as Ward only lowered his head into his hands. Preston was stoic and Esposito was smug. The captain glanced down to the inspector and nodded. His gaze shifted to the mirror where he watched the woman entered the room. Hector and Preston both turned to the blonde inspector who walked over to the table. The two detectives exchanged similar glances before they too left the interrogation room and closed the door behind them.

Lacey stood there before she sat down in front of Ward and placed her hands on the table. After some time, the man across from her finally spoke. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice cracking. He was quick to clear his throat and then looked up at Lacey with cold grey eyes.

“My colleagues and I know why you were in her sketchpad,” Lacey whispered. “You two were together, weren’t you?”

There was a simple nod on Darren’s part and the blonde inspector continued her questioning.

“Did you know that she was working as a prostitute?”

“She wasn’t a prostitute,” Ward growled. 

Lacey nodded and placed a hand on her chest, “My apologies, Mr. Ward. Now, were you helping her pay the rent?”

Ward shook his head.

“Do you know who was?”

Ward lifted his head and looked directly at the inspector with pleading eyes. “You gotta understand that she was only doing this for the money. Not for the fancy clothes, the parties, or the men. Jill just wanted to get through school and become an artist. That's what I love - _loved_ about her. She was always driven. Never wanted to quit.”

The blonde inspector sighed and nodded. “She must have been a special girl, Mr. Ward," Lacey said.

Ward nodded and said, "She was."

Lacey leaned across the table. "I believe you, Mr. Ward. I know you would not want to hurt Miss Monaghan,” she said. “I am sorry for your loss; you have my deepest sympathies.” She stood up and walked out of the room, closing the door shut behind her.

All eyes looked to Lacey who had her back pressed against the door. Jazz grabbed Brendan by the arm and motioned for Preston to follow. The lead detective complied and walked out of interrogation with the two in tow. Orion turned off the video recording the interrogation and then turned to the inspector and his detective with his eyes narrowed and his arms folded over his chest.

“Would care to tell me what the hell that was about, Esposito?” he asked.

Hector sighed. “The vic was working as prostitute - ”

“She wasn’t a prostitute,” Lacey said, pushing away from the door. “My guess is that she was most likely an escort. In London, we had several girls who worked as escorts to make money to help with uni.” 

"What makes you believe that inspector?" the captain asked.

Lacey continued, "Back in London, we came across several strings of girls working as escorts at different universities. All of them worked for the same woman, Madame Olivier. Men could go online to search for their ideal girl and pay to go on dates with them."

Hector huffed and pressed on. “Still, she was working for someone and I bet you anything Ward knows who it is. With his rap sheet? He's gotta know something. If you let me go in there - ”

“Cut him loose,” Orion said, shutting Hector down. “Have Ward give us a call if he thinks of something. Let’s at least give him time to mourn his loss.”

The Latino detective glanced over to the blonde inspector, nodded and wordlessly walked out of the room. Lacey looked through the mirror, her eyes locked onto Darren’s slumped form. Even with the volume low, there was no doubt that the man was crying. The trembling hands and his shoulders shaking were just icing on the cake. The inspector sighed softly and shook her head as Orion walked up beside her.

“Go home, inspector. Get some rest,” the captain said. Lacey opened her mouth but Orion cut her off. “Don’t worry about him; I’ll have a detective take him home.”

“Alright, have a good night, captain.” With that said, Lacey strode out of the room, leaving Orion to stand in silence and watch Darren through the mirror.

The blonde woman walked over to Hector’s desk and grabbed her leather jacket before slipping it back on. She could feel eyes staring at her back as she stalked to the elevators and waited for the doors to close. When they finally did, she was taken down to the main floor and exited out of the building, taking the steps down to the street to hail a cab that did not take long at all. She gave the cabbie her address in Dorchester and sat back in the seat. They drove for some time before the cab pulled to a stop outside of the two-story home. Lacey quickly paid the driver for his services and climbed out of the cab. As she walked up the steps, she brought her keys out, unlocked the front door, walked inside and was greeted by her German Shepherd, Jethro. He began barking and yipping at her as the woman knelt down to ruffle his fur.

“I missed you too, Jethro,” she murmured, running her fingers over his fur. “It’s been a long day.” Jethro licked his master’s hand and bumped her under her chin.

She kissed him on the head and then walked into the living room. She sat down on her loveseat where Jethro trotted over and laid down on his dog bed that was placed next to her. The woman glanced out of the window and drew her knees up to her chest. Not even bothering to go upstairs and change, she let out a yawn and curled up further in the love-seat before her eyes slid shut and fell fast asleep.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave comments and kudos! Let me know what you all think!
> 
> Note: As to the escort angle, I have read several articles that explain how some girls become "sugar babies" to help pay for college and maintain a social life.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Who has two thumbs and owns nothing? THIS GIRL.
> 
> Trigger warning: There is mention of past physical abuse and description of injuries from said abuse. If you are not comfortable with this, you can skip the section.
> 
> Important Terms:  
> Olecranon fracture - elbow fracture

* * *

_Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzt!_

_Ugh, not now..._ An arm groped tiredly for the vibrating offender before fingers latched onto it. Lacey picked up the phone and drowsily read it. **Unknown caller.** She mentally wanted to scream at the person who would dare call her at such an ungodly hour but forced herself not to. Instead, she sat up on the loveseat and rubbed her eyes. The inspector yawned and ran a hand through her tangled hair and answered the phone.

“Barton.” 

_“Hey, it’s Esposito. Good to hear that you’re awake. I just got a call from the captain and apparently, the doc wants to show us all something. Can you be here in about thirty minutes?”_  

“Make it forty so I can at least take a shower,” Lacey murmured. She heard Hector chuckle through the receiver.

_“You got yourself a deal. I’ll save you some coffee.”_ And then, he hung up. 

Lacey placed her phone on the coffee table and looked over to where Jethro lay sleeping. She reached over the loveseat and began to scratch the dog behind his ears. The German Shepherd finally awoke, yawning and blinking up at his master. He licked her hand and nestled back into his plush dog bed. The inspector rolled her eyes and climbed out of the love-seat. She folded her arms over her chest and shook her head. 

“Lazy oaf,” she muttered. Jethro lifted his head again and barked. The blonde rolled her eyes and stalked out of the living room. “I know! I know! I’ll get your food after my shower!” She waved her hands above her head and made her way upstairs. She walked into her room and then straight into the bathroom.  

Now, unlike some women who enjoyed their long showers, Lacey was in and out of hers within ten minutes. Dressed in dark jeans and a black tank top, she stood in front of her bathroom mirror, her blonde hair dry and resting on her shoulders as he began to brush it out. When she walked back out again, she saw Jethro lying on her queen sized bed that was placed in the middle of the room. At the moment, the navy blue covers and gray pillows were in their proper place but if Jethro were to stay any longer they would be in a jumbled mess.

“Alright, off!” Lacey whistled and Jethro hopped off the bed, trotted out of the room and went down the stairs to the kitchen. The blonde inspector followed her dog down the stairs and into the kitchen where the German Shepherd sat waiting by his food bowl. 

“You are incredibly spoiled, Jethro,” Lacey muttered with a roll of her eyes. 

She grabbed the bowl from the floor and walked over to the large bag of dog food that sat on the counter. She filled the bowl and laughed when she turned to see Jethro staring up at her with his “puppy eyes”. She placed the bowl on the ground again and ruffled her dog’s fur who began to scarf down his breakfast. The blonde opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a raw-hide bone for the large dog. Jethro lifted his head and reached out to take the bone but Lacey was quick to jerk her hand back.

“Oh no,” she said. She gestured to the kibble-filled bowl. “Finish up your breakfast and this will be waiting for you.”

She walked out of the kitchen and strode into the living room. She placed the bone on the table where she phone lay and tugged on her combat boots. The blonde inspector looked up when she heard a bark from the entry way to the living room. Jethro stood waiting patiently for his bone; his brown eyes locked onto hers. The young woman chuckled and tossed the raw-hide to the German Shepherd who caught it and walked over to his dog bed. He flopped on the plush bed and began to chew on the bone. 

“I’ll see you tonight, boy,” Lacey said. Jethro paused chewing on the bone and got up on all fours. She knelt down to her dog’s level who then licked her hand. “Wish me luck.” she murmured as she patted the dog on the head. The German Shepherd barked several times before he nudged the woman’s chin with his wet nose. She wiped her chin with the back of her hand and then got up to her feet.  

She gathered up her phone and wallet that sat on the lamp stand. She grabbed her leather jacket, slipped it on and walked out of the front door. The blonde woman closed the door behind her and walked down the steps. She hailed a cab, climbed in, and waited as the cabbie drove her to the precinct where she paid for his services and headed into the building again. Lacey quickly made it through security and jogged to the elevators just as they were about to close. A hand stopped the elevator from closing where Lacey looked up thank the person but stopped when she saw Ian staring down at her. 

“Fancy meetin’ you here,” he said with a grin. 

_You’ve got to be bloody joking. Of all the pompous blokes in this damn city, it had to be him. Just my luck._ With a huff, the inspector entered the elevator and stood beside Ian. He allowed the elevator doors to close and pressed the 4th-floor button. Lacey pressed her back against the elevator with her arms folded over her chest and eyes narrowed at Ian back. He slowly turned around and tilted his head towards her.

“Look, I wanna apologize for yesterday; I didn’t mean to offend ya. So, you mind if we start over?” Ian said. He extended his hand for her to shake it. “Ian Winters, firearms specialist.” 

Lacey eyed it warily before she sighed and shook the man’s large hand. “Lacey Barton,” she greeted. 

“So, how’d your first day go?” the man asked when they broke their handshake. “Was it what you expected?” 

The inspector chuckled with a shake of her head. “I am not at liberty to say, Mr. Winters,” she said with a smile. Ian frowned at this. “I’m afraid that is ‘classified’ information.” she finished, making air quotes around “classified”. The elevator doors opened with a ding! Lacey strode out of the elevator, leaving Ian to stand there shaking his head and chuckling under his breath. He closed the elevator doors and was gone to retreat to his own domain. 

When Lacey entered the bullpen, Hector was sitting at his desk with two cups of steaming coffee on it. He was working at his desk, typing furiously on the keyboard. The inspector smirked and plucked one of the cups from the desk, startling Hector. He let out a Hispanic curse and glared up at the grinning blonde who took a sip of her coffee. 

“If I remember correctly from this morning, you said that the good doctor had something to us?” she asked as the Latino stood up from his desk.  

Hector nodded and motioned for her to follow him. “Captain’s already downstairs waitin’ on us.” 

The inspector placed her mug on the desk again and jogged behind him. The two walked to the elevator doors again where they stepped inside and went down to the morgue. They trekked down the long hallway where they saw Orion standing outside waiting for them. Without any greetings exchanged, the three entered the morgue where they saw Ryan washing his hands at the sink. 

“Before you ask Orion, I had her blood and urine tested and found her blood alcohol was 0.06%. According to the bartenders, the victim had a few drinks before she left the club,” the medical examiner explained as Orion, Lacey, and Hector followed behind him to the victim’s body. “And judging from her stomach contents, I would say that she had chicken parmesan with extra sauce,” he said with a small smile.

Ryan picked up a glass jar that held what he pointed out as the victim’s stomach contents. Hector swallowed hard and averted his eyes; he was starting to regret eating the breakfast burrito earlier. Lacey was thankful she did not have breakfast yet. 

His eyes narrowed and the smiled faded. He led them to the large x-ray illuminator and turned on the lights. They flickered a moment before the x-rays illuminated.

“However, I found something else on the x-ray that piqued my interest,” the doctor said. 

“What did you find?” Lacey asked. 

Ryan’s expression changed from professional to personal; his tone turned serious. “I found a series of fractures; two fractured ribs, one on her left wrist, and finally an olecranon fracture,” he replied. He gestured to the x-rays on the board, shook his head, and folded his arms over his chest. “Something tells me that your victim was being abused.” 

Orion glanced over to Lacey, after all, she was the one who managed to get extra information from Ward yesterday. “Could the boyfriend have done this?” 

The blonde woman shook her head; she traced her fingers over the x-rays. “He couldn’t have; he cared for her too much,” she replied. “You saw how broken up he was when Espo showed him the sketchpad; not exactly a reaction I would expect from an abusive boyfriend.” 

“He could’ve been lying to us,” Hector said with a shrug. “Wouldn’t be the first time a guy’s done that.” 

Ryan was quick to take control of the conversation. “Ep! Ep! Ep! You didn’t let me finish,” he spoke, wagging a finger at the Latino. The three all turned their attention to the medical examiner. “There was also evidence that she suffered from a multitude of bruises and torn ligaments around her shoulders, clavicle, and forearm. The one to her forearm was the most recent, judging by its coloration. It wasn’t until I brought her from the scene when they started to appear. Unfortunately, I couldn’t pull prints; the bastard must’ve worn gloves.” Ryan handed the young captain his full report. “I’m sorry, Orion.” 

Orion nodded and sighed, frustrated. He was hoping that this case would be open and shut but at this rate, that idea was beginning to fade. With no fingerprints and no suspect, this case was only going downhill from there. The captain ran his fingers through his hair. Ryan slipped on a pair of latex gloves as Orion looked back to him. 

“What about the wound on her neck? Do you know what could have caused it?” 

“My best guess is a scalpel,” Ryan answered, holding said instrument in his hand. He placed it on his tray of tools and then tilted the victim’s head to the side to reveal the wound that was carved into her neck. “The wound itself wasn’t deep but it had to be for the L to be prominent.” 

“Esposito, see if you can find any other open cases that match the circumstances of our murder,” Orion ordered. “Have Underwood help you out as well. Call if anything turns up.” 

Hector gave his captain a quick nod and sent Lacey a grin who rolled her eyes in return. He strode out of the morgue with the doors falling behind him. Ryan rolled his eyes at the detective’s antics and turned his attention to Orion who had his eyes cast down to the victim. The two stood in silence for some time before the morgue doors opened from behind them.  

“Sir?” All eyes turned to the morgue’s doors where Preston was standing. “The victim’s parents just arrived and are waiting outside; they want to see her body,” the detective said. Orion motioned for Lacey to follow him. Ryan quickly covered the victim with the pale sheet and took several steps back from the metal table. 

The trio entered the hallway and saw a couple sitting on one of the benches outside of the morgue. Preston and Orion walked up to the parents who stared up the captain and detective with sad eyes. Lacey stayed close to the morgue’s doors, simply watching her new commander and co-worker speak to the victim’s parents. She did not hear much of their conversation but when Orion and the parents approached she was quick to step aside and allow the others into the morgue. 

“Are you going to go in?” Preston asked from next to her. 

Lacey shook her head. “No, not this time,” she answered quietly. She folded her arms over her chest and swallowed. “I’ve always hated this part.” Preston placed a solid hand on the woman’s shoulder for comfort. She took in a deep breath as she watched from the other side as Ryan pulled back the sheet and revealed the victim.

The victim’s mother burst into tears and threw herself into her husband’s arms. She buried her face into his chest and began to sob loudly in his chest. Luckily, her sobs were muffled and could not be heard to those who lurked outside the morgue. Ryan covered the victim again and offered his condolences to the now grieving parents. The father nodded, his expression grim but still full of grief and sorrow. Orion spoke to them again and then led them out of the morgue where Lacey and Preston were waiting for them.  

“Mr. and Mrs. Monaghan, why don’t we go somewhere where we can talk in private?” Orion suggested. 

The victim’s father nodded. “Thank you, captain.” he murmured. 

That was the worst part of their jobs. Always telling someone that their loved ones were never coming home. It always made Lacey question as to why she decided to pursue a criminal justice profession. _Because someone has to bring the sick bastard who did this to justice_ , the voice in the back of her head reminded her. She followed the victim’s parents, Orion, and Preston to their private debriefing room. The captain beckoned for them to sit on the couch as he chose to stand until they sat down. 

Lacey stood at the back of the room and watched as Orion began to whisper in Preston’s ear. The detective immediately pulled back in surprise and sent his captain a questionable look. The  blonde ignored the two and placed her focus on the parents. The father, a tall man with thinning gray hair was comforting his wife, a much shorter woman who had fading red hair, just like her daughter. The inspector did not even notice Preston slip out of the room, leaving her with the captain and the parents. 

“Mrs. Monaghan, this is Detective Inspector Barton. She is also investigating your daughter’s murder.” Orion said. Lacey snapped out her trance and wordlessly approached the couple.  

“I am sorry for your loss,” Lacey said. “We are going to do everything we can to find your daughter’s killer.” 

“But that won’t bring my little girl back.” Mrs. Monaghan snapped bitterly. Lacey flinched at the tone of the woman’s voice. That hurt a little. She sighed and shook her head. Orion opened his mouth to cut in but the inspector beat him to it. 

“I know, but you have my word, Mrs. Monaghan,” the inspector stated, her eyes locked onto the teary ones across from her. “We will find her killer and bring him to justice.” 

The woman looked at her with reddening eyes but nodded reluctantly.  

Orion chose that moment to intervene. “Now... could you tell us when you last contacted your daughter?” Blunt for any officer but this was the captain and Lacey could see there was no good treading lightly around this. 

“About three days ago,” the father said. He was the one who speak as his wife wiped her eyes in order to compose herself. “Jill told us that she sent us an invitation for the university’s art gallery; said that her portfolio was going to be displayed this year.” 

“Do you still have the invitation?” Lacey asked.  

“We just got it yesterday,” Mrs. Monaghan said. “The gallery was in two weeks.” She then dug into her purse and pulled out a blue and white envelope. She handed it to the inspector who then began to examine the invitation. 

_ You are cordially invited to attend Jillian May Monaghan's art portfolio debut at the Boston Art Gallery - The Hidden Art Gallery on July 2, 2016, at 3:30 pm. Appetizers and refreshments will be provided.  _

“Did your daughter sound different to you when you spoke? Was she upset about anything? Or agitated?” Orion questioned. 

The parents shook their heads. “No, she sounded fine. She was excited when we said that we could fly in and visit. She said she couldn’t wait to see us and show us her portfolio,” Mr. Monaghan said.  

Lacey was quick to take a further interest in that statement. “Have you visited her before?” 

Mrs. Monaghan nodded, confused by the question. “Well, yes. But most times, Jill would come out and visit us.” 

“Have you been to her apartment?” she pressed. 

“Uhm, no. We stayed a hotel most times,” the woman replied. Mrs. Monaghan then turned on the defensive. “Why is that important?”  

The captain took that as his queue to step in. “Because for an art student she had a very expensive looking apartment,” Orion replied as he steepled his fingers together. “One that someone her age could not possibly afford on a low-income job such a barista at Starbucks.” 

Mr. and Mrs. Monaghan were confused; they were not sure whether or not they were being interrogated themselves. They knew that their daughter worked as a barista. According to Jillian, it was one of the few jobs available at the time. The two exchanged glances with one another and stumbled to find their words. Lacey and Orion watched as the couple was able to compose themselves. It wasn’t until Mrs. Monaghan spoke up and tilted her head to the side in confusion. 

“Are you suggesting that our daughter was working as a prostitute?” she asked. 

“No,” Orion said gruffly. “However, there is evidence that gives us reason to believe that she was working as an escort. We found her closet was full of expensive clothes and there was a duffel bag with stacks of cash in it.” 

“That... that can’t be,” Mr. Monaghan stammered. “Our little girl would never do something like that. Jill was a good girl. She never did drugs or alcohol in high school. She couldn’t have done something like this...” The woman next to him looked ready to faint at even the slightest possibility. 

Orion nodded in understanding. “It is possible that she may not have had a choice in the matter, I am afraid. But at the moment, it is just speculation. We do have reasons to believe that either one of her clients or her boss may have been paying for her apartment but we have no leads on who it could potentially be.” 

“Did you know if your daughter was dating anyone? Or mentioned that she was interested in anyone?” Lacey asked. 

Mr. Monaghan shook his head. “No, and if she was she didn’t tell me,” he said. He then looked to his wife. “Rachel? Did she say anything to you?” 

The woman shook her head as well. “No, she didn’t say anything about a boyfriend. But sometimes when I would call, I could hear a man’s voice in the background,” Mrs. Monaghan explained. “I just assumed it was a friend of hers.” 

“Does the name Darren Ward sound familiar to either of you?” Orion asked. 

Again, both parents shook their heads, leaving Lacey and Orion at a dead end. The parents didn’t know about their daughter's relationship with an ex-con. At this point, they were not sure of where to go from here. The two exchanged glances while Mrs. Monaghan exhaled deeply and leaned against her husband, seeking his comfort. Orion sighed softly and then leaned forward his chair, his eyes looking to Mrs. Monaghan. 

“Again, I am sorry for your loss. From what we have been told by her friends and co-workers, she was a bright girl. Very talented in the arts and loved you both very much,” the captain said. Lacey watched silently as Mrs. Monaghan reached out and grabbed Orion’s hand. Her dark brown eyes bore into his, as several tears slipped down her face. 

“Have you ever lost a child, Captain Paxton?” she whispered.  

Orion was taken back by the question. Unsure, he swallowed and said, “No. I haven’t.” 

“Then you have no idea what we are going through,” she said. “If you will excuse us, we have to make arrangements to bury our daughter.” The woman stood up and stalked out of the room with her husband chasing after her.  

The two remaining in the room sat in silence for some time. No one spoke but simply stared down at the invitation on the coffee table. Lacey glanced over at Orion who was now running a hand through his hair. 

“So, what’s our next move, captain?” 

The captain sighed and got to his feet, a new sense of determination pumping in his veins. 

“We find out who killed Jillian Monaghan.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave a comment or two and some kudos!


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Important terms:  
> APB - all points bulletin

* * *

Four days had gone by and not a single lead had proven itself to be useful. Hector and Preston went back to the university to talk with some of the victim’s professors and classmates; nothing. Lacey teamed up with Brendan and they visited the art gallery where the victim’s portfolio was to be displayed. The owners offered their condolences but did not know who could have killed Jillian Monaghan. 

All of them had great things to say about her.

“She was always on time,” one said. “Never missed a class and if she did, she would always have a doctor’s note. She would still complete the assignment anyway just to get full credit.”

“Jill had so much talent. She was one of my best students,” said another. “It’s a shame she’s gone. I was very proud of her portfolio.”

Even when they thought they had a solid start, they would pursue it and it would only lead to disappointment and several coffee runs. The team had combed through most of the evidence and found nothing. Dead end after dead end; it was a never-ending cycle. At this point, everyone was wondering where to go from here. Without any leads, the case would simply dwindle and be turned into a cold-case. And the odds of the victim’s killer brought to justice would only fade into nothing.

It was not until the fifth day of empty leads when the 12th precinct caught a break. In the lab, Percy was staring angrily at his computer screen. Hector walked into the room and noticed the scientist’s piercing glare. He chuckled and approached the other man with caution. 

“Are ya tryin’ to burn a hole through the screen, Perc?” he asked. 

The scientist rolled his eyes. “No, detective. I am merely staring at your victim’s browser history on her laptop.” 

There was a pregnant pause, followed by the Latino detective's reply of, “But, uh, there’s nothin’ there.” 

“You honestly don't think I don't know that!” Percy let out a frustrated sigh and leaned back in his chair. “I’ve been trying to retrieve her browser history for hours and I have come up with nothing!” he cried. “She deleted everything! _Everything_! Not even the most skilled of computer technicians can delete everything from their browser history and she managed to delete everything!” The scientist threw his arms wildly in the air and nearly knocked Hector in the head. The detective managed to jump out of the way as Percy continued to rant and rave at the laptop. Afterward, he slumped forward in his chair and buried his face in the palms of his hands.  

Hector clamped a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Take a break, man. You’ve been staring at that screen for hours and you look like you need some coffee and a nap.” 

Percy grumbled under his breath. “No, _detective,_ what I need is to find where all of her files disappeared to.” 

Still grumbling, he hopped down from his chair and walked over to where a coffee mug labeled "Lab Rule #7: If you do not know what a button does, do not push it" sat waiting for him. The forensic specialist took a long drink of the coffee and looked over at Hector who was leaning against the counter where his computers and monitors were at. Frustrated, Percy sat down his mug and folded his arms over his chest. He knew that the victim was trying to hide something; and whatever it had been, she did a fine damn good job at getting rid of it. The question is, what was she trying so hard to conceal? 

_Bing_! 

"Your machine made a noise."

"All of my machines makes noises, detective. How observative of you," Percy groaned, digging his palms into his eyes.

"Uh, Perc? You might want to take a look at this?"

With a huff, the forensic specialist grumbled his way over to his chair and sat down in front of the laptop. His long fingers instantly latched onto the keys and began typing. Hector watched as the scientist worked furiously at the laptop, his fingers flying over the keyboard. The detective stood in amazement as Percy finally hit the space bar and what was on the screen finally opened; his brown eyes widened in shock.

"Is that what I think that is?"

"A bank account number registered in your victim's name?" Percy suggested. He laughed in relief and nodded. "The answer, Detective Esposito, is yes," He typed a few more times onto the keyboard. "And from the looks of it, the account had close to half a million dollars."

Hector looked down at the scientist with a quirked brow. "Had? What do you mean _had_?"

"Well, from the looks of things, the account of emptied two days before your victim was killed," Percy said. He continued to type a few moments before another page opened up on the screen. He shook his head, pushed his glasses up, and then leaned back against his chair. The scientist glanced over to the detective and asked, "So, do you want to be the one to call Paxton or shall I?"

The detective cleared his throat and shook his head. “Nah, I got this,” he said. Afterward, Hector fished out his phone and sent a quick text to the captain before he turned back to the scientist. “Did ya find any prints on the laptop?” 

“I did, actually,” Percy rolled his chair over to another computer and pointed to the results on the screen. "Most of them were your victim’s. Of course, what did you expect, it was her laptop.” 

Esposito’s eyes narrowed. He said, “‘Most of them’?” 

Wordlessly, the scientist typed on the keyboard before another set of fingerprints appeared with a mug shot attached. On the screen, a man in his early thirties with cropped black hair and brown eyes glared back at the viewer. He also had a beard that was trimmed short. There were a set of scars his face, on the underside of his chin and one just below his ear. Hector cringed at the face that stared back at him; that was certainly a face that only a mother could love.

“Blaise Deeks,” Percy identified. “I found his prints on the logic board of the laptop as if he was searching for something. And just to add icing to the cake, he has a record too; two counts robbery and one count assault.”  

“But the vic wasn’t robbed,” Hector murmured. “Wallet and cell were both at the scene.” 

“Well, not exactly, Epso. Your victim was robbed and whatever Deeks was looking for, he found it.” Percy said. 

“What do you mean?” Hector asked.  

“He was looking for something inside the laptop.” 

Just as Hector opened his mouth to speak, the captain walked in. “Do you know what he was looking for?” Orion asked as he walked up to the two men.  

“A USB port within the laptop,” the scientist explained. “Mind you, I’ve seen plenty of laptops that have had USB ports installed so they can have files saved onto a flash drive small enough to hide. Any normal person wouldn’t even think of looking there but someone with a criminal history of computer hacking would.” Percy sighed and leaned back in his chair, his tone changed and his shoulders slumped. “Unfortunately, the flash drive was missing so I can’t figure out what she was hiding unless I get that flash drive back.” 

The captain folded his arms over his chest. “CSU didn’t find a flash drive at her apartment so the killer must’ve taken the flash drive or Miss Monaghan hid it before she was killed,” he muttered. “Esposito said that you found a bank account in her name?” 

“Yes,” the scientist confirmed. “My guess is that she had her clients transfer the money to this account and would then have it hidden. There was no evidence of a known bank associated with the account so the account must have been through her employer.” 

“And the prints?” 

“Blaise Deeks,” Hector explained. “Guy’s got a couple of priors too. And it looks like he just got out of prison a couple weeks ago.” 

Orion looked up at the mug shot and frowned. _Is that... wait a minute._ He pointed at the screen, his finger locked onto the tattoo that was on the base of the man’s neck. “Mr. Edwards, could you enlarge that?” he asked. 

The scientist went to work and began typing onto the keyboard. He enlarged the photo and altered the quality of the photo for a clearer shot of the tattoo. Hector shook his head in disbelief as Orion stood back with narrowed eyes. Just like the victim, the initials M.T. were written in black ink on the convict’s neck.  

“You thinking this could be gang related?” Hector glanced at his commanding officer. 

Orion sighed and shook his head. “I’m not sure,” he said. “But it is not a coincidence that our victim has the same tattoo as a convict; let alone the fact that she was dating a former one.” 

“You got an address for me Perc?” the Latino detective asked the scientist. He fished out his phone and waited for Percy to list off the address. 

“2 Caddy Road, Mattapan.” the scientist replied. He scrunched his nose, his gaze directed to the mug shot on the screen.“I would be extremely careful with this guy, Espo. According to his record, he’s said to be incredibly violent and has an incredibly short temper.” 

“Like that’s ever stopped me from bringin’ in a perp,” the detective snorted. He turned his gaze to his captain. “So, where have you been all morning, cap?” 

“I had a meeting with the chief. He wanted an update on the case,” Orion answered flatly. “Call Novak and tell him to meet you at the suspect’s house; bring him down for questioning. Be cautious too; I want Deeks brought to the precinct in one piece.”   

Hector tapped in Preston’s name and pressed the call button. “Aye, aye captain.” he said with a wink. Orion, in response, scowled and rolled his eyes. The Latino detective walked out of the lab to speak in private while the other stayed behind with Percy. The captain leaned against the evidence table and folded his arms over his chest; something was off about this case. The scientist leaned back in his chair and glanced over at Orion. 

“Have you had any luck with the other evidence?” Orion asked. 

Percy shook his head. “Unfortunately no. CSU went through the whole apartment and found little trace evidence; most of the prints found were the victim’s which is to be expected.” 

“Which means that she didn’t bring clients to her apartment,” the captain murmured. He pulled on a pair of latex gloves. “What about her address book? Any upcoming events?” 

Percy reached for the address book and handed it to Orion who began to flip through some of the pages. “Just picking up extra shifts at Starbucks, some lunch dates with Ward, and a dress fitting on the 24th. And her cell-phone proved to be useless as well,” the scientist stated. He pulled out the victim’s iPhone and handed it to the captain. “She had a few contacts, including her manager, her parents, and a few friends,” he explained. “Your victim did a very good job of covering her tracks, sir. It’s as if she left the escort business and wiped all traces of it from her life.” 

_What if that is what she intended to do in the first place?_ Orion thought, tossing the gloves in the trash. 

“I’ll run the tattoo through a database of known gang tattoos; I’ll text you when I get results.” Percy said. 

The captain thanked Percy for his help and strode out of the lab. The victim went through a lot of trouble to erase all evidence of the escort business. It would’ve taken a lot of time and money in order for her to achieve such a thing... so, the question is, how did she do it? Orion shook his head in frustration. This case was only going to grow more difficult to solve as time went on, and the lack of evidence in the case seemed to help. There had to be something, something to break the case wide open.

With his thoughts a jumbled mess, Orion strolled down the hall to the stairs where he went down another flight to the basement. He opened the door to the firing range and found Lacey cleaning one of her weapons. The inspector lifted her head at the sound of the door opening and placed her rag on the table when Orion entered.  

“Is everything alright, sir?” she asked as he approached her. 

“Something feels wrong about this case,” Orion admitted. “However, I am not sure what that something is.” 

Lacey nodded. “Did Percy find any evidence that could help us find the victim’s killer?” she asked. 

“A hidden bank account with half a million dollars and a set of fingerprints that belonged to a convict. I’ve already sent Esposito to meet Novak at the guy’s house in Mattapan,” Orion explained. He sat down on one of the stools in the firing range and ran a hand through his hair.

“And the suspect has the same tattoo as our victim, on the base of his neck.”  

The inspector’s eyes widened. “Really?” She reassembled her weapon. “Are you thinking that this could be gang related?” she questioned. 

“I’m not sure,” he answered with a shrug. He gestured to the Glock in her hands. “Practicing?” 

“Your firearms specialist said that it would be wise to test out my new weapon before going out into the field,” Lacey replied. She placed a new clip of ammo into the chamber, cocked the gun and placed it back on the table. “I suggest you cover your ears, sir.” 

She pulled a set of large headphones over her ears and picked up the Glock. Orion followed her example, grabbing another set. The inspector sucked in a deep breath and raised the Glock to eye-level. Lacey closed her eyes for a brief moment before opening them. She waited a few more seconds before calling out, “Six shots! Firing!” and finally pulled the trigger. 

_ BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!  _

The blonde lowered her weapon and waited for the target to be moved up the range. Orion did the honors and flipped a switch that triggered the target to move up the range and stand in front of them. It revealed a nice cluster of bullet holes right in the center of the target’s head.  Lacey unloaded the weapon, checked the chamber, and then replaced a new clip of ammo. She took off her ear protection and placed it on the counter. She holstered the gun and turned to her captain who had his arms folded over his chest. 

“I’m impressed,” Orion said with a nod. “Nice grouping.” 

“Thank you, captain,” Lacey replied. She folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the counter. “So, what is this about a secret bank account?” 

* * *

When Preston and Hector arrived at the house, they weren’t really surprised at the state of it. It was a run-down, one-story home with chipped paint on the outside and torn wallpaper on the inside. The windows were so caked with dirt; it was difficult to see what was inside the house. The building itself seemed to sag almost depressingly under the weight of the few roof tiles left. And the inside was not much better, once they unlocked the door. Clothes were strewn around the house, dirty dishes still left in the sink, and piles of papers were stacked on the kitchen table. 

“Guy must’ve left in a hurry,” Hector said as the two detectives strolled through the house. He picked up an envelope that read PAST DUE in red letters. He waved it to Preston who stood across the kitchen table from him. “Probably had a good reason too.” 

“It seems that he has not been here for quite some time,” Preston murmured. “Judging by the state and stench of his home.” 

The detective wrinkled his nose in distaste from the scent of the trashcan that obviously hadn’t been taken out for a while. Hector let the bill fall from his hand and back onto the pile as Preston gazed around the premises before a flashing red light caught his attention in the living room. When the detective got closer, he realized that it belonged to an answering machine and judging by the flashing, it had a couple of messages on it. 

The detective tilted his head to the side before he pressed play on the answering machine. _You have three new messages. First message received at 10:24 PM on Sunday, June 15th._ **Look, Deeks, tell the boss that I’m done; I’ve got nothin’ else for me. And tell him to not bother with sending my next paycheck.** _Beep! End of message._

_That sounded just like... Darren Ward._ Preston took his finger off the machine and blinked. “Esposito?” he called.

The Latino detective lifted his head and walked over to the other detective. He looked over to Hector and pointed to the answering machine. “That was Darren Ward’s voice on the answering machine.” 

“I heard that,” Hector replied, crossing his arms. “So, meaning they knew each other and shared a boss. Or at least formerly shared a boss.”

“I know,” Preston said. “The question is who were they working for and what were they doing.” 

He scanned the room again before a faint whiff of something caught his nose. He sniffed the air and scowled. “Do you smell that?” 

Hector sniffed as well, his breath catching. He held a hand to his mouth and coughed several times. He took his hand away and blinked several times. “Yeah... smoke.” His dark eyes switched to the door that leads downstairs to the basement, an orange glaze creeping up the stairs.  

“Damnit.” 

Without warning, Preston grabbed Hector by the arm and began to drag him out of the home. The detective shoved the Latino detective out the door and raced back to grab the answering machine, yanking the cords connecting to the wall and ran back outside. The two watched as the flames began to lick its way into the kitchen, igniting all the papers and clothing littering the home. Preston set the answering machine on the roof of his car and ran a hand through his hair. All they could do was watch the house go up in flames. 

“So,” Preston said with a cough. He turned his gaze to the Latino who was bent over and had his hands on his knees. “What do we tell Paxton?” 

“Uhm, well... _shit_.” Hector scratched the back of his head in embarrassment as the roof was now engulfed in flames. His shoulders slumped and he dropped his head. “Yeah, I got nothing.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave a comment and kudos!


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

 “Jesus Christ.”

There was a long pause after that, as Orion ran a hand over his face, repressing the heaviest of sighs; this was not his day. He leaned back in his chair with the phone pressed to his ear.

“Are you guys alright?” he asked. 

There was static before Preston’s voice echoed through the receiver. _“Yeah, we’re both fine but the house didn’t survive the blaze. However, I did manage to grab the answering machine; there was a message on it from Darren Ward. Esposito decided to stay behind and help out with CSU; I’m on my way back to the precinct.”_  

The captain sat up at the mention of the suspect. “You said Ward left a message for Deeks?” he repeated. 

Preston continued to speak on the other line. _“Yeah, sounds like the two of them had some kind of history.”_

“Interesting,” Orion ran his fingers through his hair and stood up. “I’ll have Underwood put out an APB on Deeks and we’ll see where that will get us. Just please get back to the precinct safely and we’ll figure out where to go from here.” 

The captain hung up his phone and stared down at the device shaking his head, before slipping it into his pocket and placing both hands on his desk. He hunched over, his eyes glued to the most recent photo of their murder victim, Jillian Monaghan, that was currently on his computer screen. She was dressed in a green cocktail dress with her hair pinned up in curls and had her arms wrapped around her parents’ shoulders, wearing the biggest of smiles that made her eyes sparkle as if she had just won the lottery. 

It was sad, really, to see a victim be so happy in one photo, and then the next day is lying dead on a metal slab. The captain sighed, shook his head again, and walked out of his office. When he entered the bullpen, he saw Lacey hunched over Esposito’s desk, her head resting on her folded arms, fast asleep. Brendan, on the other hand, sat across from the inspector and was typing at his computer, stealing quick glances to the sleeping blonde.  

“Inspector?” Orion called. 

She did not stir. 

The captain frowned and approached Lacey. He tapped her gently on the shoulder and expected a hand to swat him away. However, he did not expect the woman to jerk awake, scream, “Bloody hell!”, and attempt to throw a punch at him. He snatched onto Lacey’s first and locked eyes with her. Her green eyes were wide whereas her cheeks were flushed in embarrassment. Brendan’s eyes shifted between his captain and the inspector before he pushed himself away from his desk and stood up. 

“I’m going to go get some coffee.” he said, shuffling away from his desk, trying to evacuate the area. 

Orion pointed at the young detective and said, “Sit. Down.” And Brendan quickly went back to his desk and did as he was told, with his hands folded in his lap, though still looking nervous. The captain released his grip and Lacey dropped her hand to her thigh.  

“I’m sorry about that, captain,” the inspector murmured. She ran a hand over her face and yawned. “My nephew called me last night and forgot about the time difference between here and London.” 

Brendan snorted and Orion cast him a narrowed gaze. He turned back to the inspector. “It’s quite alright.” 

“So,” the young detective drawled leaning back in his chair and folding his arms behind his head. “What was the phone call about?” 

“Ah yes, Novak and Esposito went to find Deeks and the guy’s house caught fire, burning a great amount of evidence.” Orion said.  

The inspector cut in. “What? Are they alright?” 

The captain nodded and continued speaking, “They’re both fine. A little bruised is all. Esposito is staying at the house until CSU can comb through the wreckage and Novak’s on his way back.” He sat down on the desktop behind Lacey and folded his arms over his chest. “Did you two find anything on Deeks’ financials?” 

“Nothing useful,” Brendan answered, gesturing to his computer. “Not much in his savings or checking account so I’m thinking he had another account like our victim. I mean, if we still going on the theory that they worked for the same guy.” 

“We just need to find out who their employer was.” Orion said.  

“And what exactly they were doing for them,” Brendan murmured, his gaze shifting towards his captain. “It’s gonna be a lot harder with Deeks in the wind now.” 

“We’ll find him,” the captain replied. “Did you find any other open homicides relating to this one?” 

Brendan shook his head. “Not any homicide cases,” he said. “But I did find two cold cases about a pair of prostitutes being held at knife point.” 

“What happened?” the captain asked.  

The detective told his story. “According to both statements, the suspect grabbed both girls from behind, took a knife to their throats, assaulted them, and then tried to carve something into the side of their neck. In both cases, the vics managed to get away and took shelter; one at a church and the other at a convenient store. They called the cops and gave their statements.” 

“When did this happen?” Orion questioned. 

“About eight years ago, both attacks occurred within two weeks of each other. Special victims were investigating but they eventually ran out of solid leads, so they sent it off to the cold case detectives.” 

“Did either victim get a description of him?” Lacey asked. 

Brendan shook his head. “No, neither of them got a good look at the guy.” 

“Damnit.” Orion muttered. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair and vented a frustrated sigh. Just as he slipped off the desk, his phone vibrated in his pocket to which he fished it out and checked the text message. _Captain, I found something that I think you will find very interesting about your murder victim._

He closed the message and looked to Brendan. “Underwood, I want you to put an APB on Blaise Deeks. We need to find him and bring him in before another body turns up,” he ordered. “And try to get in contact with the original detective who investigated those cases, maybe he has something that could help us track down our killer.” The captain then turned to Lacey. 

“Inspector, there is someone I would like you to meet.” 

“On it, cap.” Brendan pushed himself away from his desk and strode toward the elevator. 

Orion gestured for Lacey to follow him down the hall and up a flight of stairs. They traveled in silence, both buried in their own thoughts before they came to an office with its door wide open. The Captain walked inside and paused, his eyes locking onto the man who was bizarrely laid out on the leather couch, hanging upside down. Across from him was one of the paintings by their murder victim; the same one Lacey had found in her apartment. 

“Dr. Novak, I normally do not question your methods but is there a reason why you’re upside down and staring at this painting?” 

“I am analyzing the painting from a different perspective,” came the reply. The man, Sean Novak, lifted his head briefly to glance at him and then returned it to its original position. He had curly brown hair and blue eyes and wore a clean button-down shirt and slacks. He wore no shoes but had a pair of mix-matched socks on his feet. He lifted his head again and said, “However, I do enjoy the sensation.” 

Orion narrowed his eyes. “Now is really not the time, Sean. In case you’ve forgotten, we do have a murder to solve.” 

With a huff, Sean shifted his position to where he was sitting back on the couch and had his back to the paint. He swung his legs around and stood up. He noticed Lacey behind Orion and stuck out his hand and shook hands with her. 

“Dr. Sean Novak, I am the precinct’s designated psychologist,” the man introduced. “But please, do call me Sean.” 

“Detective Inspector Lacey Barton, pleasure to meet you, doctor.” she replied, shaking his hand. She then realized what he had said looking at him queerly. “Novak? Any relation to Detective Novak by chance?”  

Sean chuckled and nodded. “Yes, he’s my older brother.” 

“I see the resemblance now.” Lacey commented. 

“But I am more handsome than little Preston; he failed in that department.” Sean said with a wink. 

_Oh Jesus, someone please stop him._ Orion thought with a shake of his head. Knowing full well that this conversation was going to go nowhere, the captain was quick to cut in and rein in his new detective and the psychologist.

“You said that you had something about our victim?” the captain asked.

“Ah yes, I was getting to that,” the psychologist said. He motioned for Lacey and Orion to follow him and all three were now standing in front of the painting. “For one, Ryan was right about your victim being abused by a client.” 

“How do you know that?” Lacey asked, curious. 

“The brushstrokes, inspector,” answered the psychologist.  

Orion was confused. He looked at the painting and then to the psychologist who was practically beaming with pride. The captain glanced over at Lacy who shared the same expression of confusion. He clicked his tongue and flatly said, “... The brushstrokes? Would you care to explain that?” 

“Of course,” Sean replied. “I was examining this most recent painting, done on the 9th; the day before she was killed. Her brushstrokes were much more different than those painted six months ago.” He pointed to the painting and mimicked the movements of the brushstrokes. “These here are very short and erratic. They are filled with anger and fear; as if she was afraid of something, or in this case, someone.” 

Orion sat down on the edge of the psychologist’s desk. “So, this confirms the injuries she sustained prior to her death.” 

Lacey cut in and said, “But still doesn’t help us in finding out who was abusing her.” 

“On the contrary, inspector,” Sean said with a wag of his finger. “Your victim did leave a clue of who was abusing her; you are simply not seeing it.” 

Lacey was unconvinced and quirked a blonde brow. But then the psychologist motioned for her to sit on the couch. The inspector looked to the captain who wore an expression that read, “Just go with it. He means well, I promise.” Lacey complied, though reluctantly, to Sean’s wishes and sat down. She folded her hands in her lap and waited for the next set of instructions. 

“Now, I want you to hang upside down as I did before you two arrived.” Sean instructed. 

The inspector stared blankly at the psychologist who folded his arms over his chest and smirked. 

“You can’t be serious,” she laughed. Her face fell when Sean only continued to grin at her. Apparently, he is. “Alright, but I am not exactly sure how this is going to help find the killer, Dr. Novak.” she murmured. 

Lacey sighed before she too changed her position to where she was lying upside down with her feet high above her. Her hair billowed out and now hung in loose curls. She blinked several times, allowing her eyes to adjust and stared at the painting. Sean and Orion exchanged glances and waited until Lacey gasped in response. To her surprise, she did find something... hidden within the brushstrokes were the same initials that were tattooed on the victim’s lower back. 

**M.T.**   

“That cannot be a coincidence,” Lacey murmured. “Sir, she was trying to tell us who had been abusing her this whole time. The initials on this painting are the same as the ones tattooed on her lower back; her abuser is the same man who was paying her to be an escort.” 

Orion opened his mouth to speak but was cut off when a knock was at the door and all three turned towards the open door. Standing in the door frame was Preston who hadn’t changed out of his sooty clothes from earlier. There were traces of ash still left in strands of his hair and his skin a bright pink from the intense heat of the fire.  

“Am I interrupting something?” Preston asked, gesturing to Lacey who still hung upside down.  

Well, this is incredibly awkward. Lacey quickly sat up and turned to where she was facing the group of men and the painting. She climbed off the couch and straightened her blouse. She ran a hand through her hair and walked over to stand beside Sean who was smirking at his older brother. Preston narrowed his eyes at the psychologist before turning his attention to his captain. 

“I thought you two would want to listen to the message left on the answering machine,” Preston stated. “I took it down to Percy who is currently cleaning up the machine as we speak.” 

Orion nodded and got off the edge of the desk. “Of course,” he murmured. He gestured for the detective to lead the way. He followed Preston out of the door before he turned back and said, 

“Thank you, Dr. Novak.”  

“Anytime, Captain Paxton. I am always happy to assist the precinct,” Sean said with a bow of his head. “After all, it is what they pay me for.” 

Just as Lacey was about to walk out of the office and follow after the captain, Sean grabbed her by her wrist and pulled her close to where he could whisper in her ear. “My door is always open if you wish to talk, inspector.” 

Lacey pulled back and stared at the psychologist with wide eyes. Sean’s eyes twinkled with delight. He smirked, released her wrist, and strolled around to sit at his desk again. The woman opened her mouth to speak but her name was called by the captain, signaling for her to leave. The blonde quickly caught up with Preston and Orion, following them down the stairs to Percy’s lab, unsure of what had just happened. 

The trio strolled into Percy’s lab where they found the scientist bent over at one of the tables and was working on the answering machine that Preston had brought in. Percy lifted his head, hearing the doors slide close, and removed his goggles; he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. 

“What do you have for me, Percy?” Preston asked.

“Well, the machine had three messages; two were from Darren Ward,” Percy replied. “And the last one was from your murder victim.” 

You have three new messages. _First message received at 10:24 PM on Sunday, June 12th._ **Look Deeks, tell the boss that I’m done; I’ve got nothin’ else for me. And tell him to not bother with sending my next paycheck.** _Beep! End of message._

“That’s the one I played before the house burst into flames,” Preston commented quietly. “I didn’t bother checking for any other messages.” 

The answering machine continued to play. 

_Second message received at 2:13 AM on Tuesday, June 7th._ **Hey, I stopped by your place earlier and dropped off the stuff you asked. I expect my money by next week.** _Beep! End of message._  

_Third message received at 11:07 PM on Monday, June 6th._ **Deeks? It’s Jillian. Don’t forget to tell the boss that I’m not working this Friday night. I’ve already made plans so that means I expect no phone calls from anyone. That should be easy enough for you to handle, right? See you on the streets.** Beep! End of message. 

Silence hung in the air when the answering machine had finished replaying the messages. No one said anything. They simply sat in silence until the captain finally cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Novak, call Esposito and tell him to make his way back to the precinct now,” Orion stated. He then turned to Percy who had been silent after the answering machine had finished playing. “Thank you, Percy.” 

The scientist nodded and walked away from the table, hands in his lab coat’s pockets. Preston silently made his way out of the lab, leaving Orion and Lacey alone in the lab. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it, unsure of what to say.

“Sir?” 

Orion rose his hand to stop the inspector. Lacey closed her mouth and bit her lip. The captain sighed and said, “I need to update the chief of our progress.” 

With that said, he walked out of the lab, leaving Lacey to stand alone in the lab. She folded her arms over her chest, unsure of what to do at the point. She did not know if she should follow after the captain and wait until he had finished updating the chief or simply stay behind in the lab. 

“Inspector?”  

Lacey looked up and saw Ian standing in the doorway. He had his arms folded over his chest with a small smile on his lips.

“I just saw Paxton go upstairs; he looked pretty upset... something happen?” the weapons specialist asked. 

“You could say that...” Lacey motioned to the answering machine next to her. “Our victim left a message on our suspect's answering machine. She was talking about how she was not going to be working on Friday night... the same night she was killed.” 

Ian nodded and uncrossed his arms. They stood in silence before the man clicked his tongue and said, “C’mon. You look like you are in need of some target practice.” 

He motioned for the inspector to follow him. The two walked through the hall in silence and down the stairs, making their way to the firing range. Ian opened the door for Lacey who stepped inside and walked silently up to one of the stalls. 

“Listen, I’m gonna head out for lunch, so lock up when you’re done,” Ian said. He dropped the range’s keys on the table next to the door. 

“Do you have anyone to go home to, Mr. Winters?” Lacey asked. 

The firearms specialist paused, his hand resting over the door knob. He closed the door and slowly turned. He wordlessly pulled out his phone and opened up his photo gallery. He swiped through some of the photos before he clicked on one and revealed it to Lacey. On the screen was a handsome dark haired woman and three young girls all varying in ages and hair color, all smiling. The first girl in the photo had dark hair like the older woman and had dark eyes like her father. Then the middle girl had flaming red hair also with stunning blue eyes. And finally the last girl, around five years old, had dark strawberry blonde hair and brown eyes.  

“My wife, Cate and our three girls,” Ian said. He pointed to each girl and smiled. “Our oldest, Bailey, then Piper, and finally our youngest, Annabelle.” 

“I had no idea you were married,” the inspector murmured. She gestured to his left hand where the gold wedding band lay. “Clearly, I was wrong.” 

Ian chuckled. “Yeah, been with Cate for eighteen years,” he said. 

“Your girls are beautiful; they look just like their mother,” Lacey commented. 

The firearms specialist laughed. “We didn’t really think about having kids. Four years after we were married, Cate got pregnant with Bailey. Then, couple years later we had Piper and then finally Annabelle. We, uh, we didn’t plan on having Annabelle; she was a big surprise for the both of us,” he said. He sat down on the edge of the table and stared down at his phone’s screen. “I wouldn’t change it for the world, though.”  

Lacey couldn’t help but smile. 

“Mr. Winters?” 

“Hm?” 

“Thank you, for the talk.” 

“Anytime.” 

The door closed and Ian was gone. 

* * *

_Bzzzt! Bzzzt! Bzzzt!_

“Hello?” 

_“The police found your answering machine with messages from two particular individuals. They are closing in on you, Deeks and that means that they are closing in on me. Now, how do you suppose you are going to fix that?”_

Deeks chuckled, his eyes gleaming in his rear view mirror.  

“Don’t worry, I got something up my sleeve.” 

_“Whatever that may be, see that it is done, are we clear?”_

“Crystal.”  

The line disconnected and Deeks tossed his phone into the passenger seat. He leaned up in his seat, adjusted the rear view mirror, and sat back. He grinned at the figure that passed by and began to laugh. His intended target wore a leather jacket, combat boots, and had a steaming cup of Starbucks in his left hand. 

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters:  
> Sean Novak - Smokescreen  
> Cate Winters - Chromia  
> Feel free to leave a comment and some kudos! 
> 
> Thanks guys!
> 
> \- Natalie


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Important notes:  
> CSU - Crime scene unit

* * *

“Of course, Mr. Monaghan. With your permission, I would like to have a few of my officers to escort you and your wife to the funeral... of course, yes, I understand,” the captain ran a hand over his face. “You and your wife have my deepest sympathies. Yes... yes, goodbye.”

Orion hung up the landline and felt his shoulders sag. He stole a quick glance to the file of the inspector that lay on his desk. He sat up in his chair and grabbed the file off the desk. He slowly began to skim through some of the pages. 

_Birth name: Lacey Christine Barton (Kingsley). Birth date: July 29,1990. Gender: Female. Weight: 59.0 kg. Height: 1.62 m. Hair color: Blonde. Eye color: Green._

_Graduated from the University of Liverpool with a degree in Psychology, emphasis in Forensic Psychology and Human Behavior. Graduated from Hendon Police College with high marks. Joined Metropolitan Police Service in September 2011 as a Police Constable. Promoted to Sergeant in December 2013. Promoted to Inspector in October 2014. Transferred from London, England to Boston, MA (USA) in June 2016._  

_Marital status: Widow._

_Wait - widow?_ The captain quickly read over the bolded letters that spelled out - **WIDOW**. So, the inspector was married? He did not see a ring on the woman's finger. He continued to read the file.

_Husband: Taron Everett Kingsley. Birth date: January 4, 1987. Gender: Male. Weight: 81.0 kg. Height: 1.87 m. Hair color: Brown. Eye color: Blue._

_Deceased. Manner of death: Accident. Cause of death: Car wreck._

Orion continued to skim the file, hoping to pull more information about the inspector until a knock interrupted his reading. He quickly opened one of the drawers, dropped the file into the drawer, and closed it shut. He cleared his throat and responded with, “Come in.”

The captain looked up and leaned back in his leather chair as Lacey poked her blonde head through the door. His heart pounded his chest and his fingers twitched. Was she able to figure out something was wrong? Did she suspect he was up to something? The blonde inspector pointed to his desk lamp and waltzed into his office. 

“I saw that your light was on,” she said. “Is everything alright?” 

The captain steepled his fingers. “I just got off the phone with our victim’s parents,” he said. “I told them of the message Miss Monaghan left on Deek's answering machine.” 

“And?” Lacey pressed. “What did they say?”  

“Well, I can tell you that it was not a pleasant conversation. Mrs. Monaghan called me a cold-hearted bastard,” he answered flatly. “Her husband managed to grab the phone from her before she could insult me further.”  

Lacey flinched and bit her lip. She gave him a sympathetic look and smiled. “I'm sure you are many things, captain,” she said, “but a cold-hearted bastard is certainly not one of them.” 

“Thank you, inspector,” the captain replied. “Any leads on the APB?” 

The inspector shook her head. “None. I called some of the surrounding precincts to check but no word on Deeks,” she murmured. She slipped off her red leather jacket and folded it in her lap. “He must’ve gone underground; that explains  whoever he may be working for must’ve helped him go off the grid.” 

The captain sighed and ran a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They’re always two steps ahead of us...” 

“Which means that our killer might have done this before,” Lacey murmured. “I know that Brendan said that there were no open homicide cases. But the only cases with similar motives were these two rape cases from eight years ago.” 

“Well, let’s hope that Underwood found something for us,” Orion said. He pulled out his phone, scrolled through his contacts, and placed a call for Brendan. The captain waited patiently until the young detective picked up. 

_“Underwood.”_

“Underwood, have you had any luck with special victims? Did they have anything to say?” 

There was a sigh. _“I wish I did, sir. The investigating detective, Trevor King, died six months ago - car accident. Drunk driver T-boned him when he was on his way back from a fishing trip with some friends.”_

“Damn it,” Orion cursed. He ran a hand over his face; Lacey looked worried. That was never a good sign. “Alright, thanks for checking things out for me; go ahead and see if one of the cold case detectives will let you bring back those rape cases. Maybe we can find something in the old files.” 

_“Will do, see you soon, sir.”_

Orion hung up his phone and dropped it on his desk. “Investigating detective died in a car accident six months ago,” he said. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Most of his case notes will probably be gone by now.” 

Lacey quirked a brow. “Why do you say that?” 

“Detectives normally toss their notebooks after they retire or get promoted; I know I did,” Orion spoke. “At this rate, we’re running out of leads and running out of time. The killer is still out there. And might be hunting his next victim.” 

“Do you think the lab will have something for us? From the fire?” 

“Perhaps, we might as well and see.”  

_ Boom! _

A sharp vibration went through the building, causing several pieces of the furniture in Paxton’s office to move. Orion shook his head. This was the third time this month. However, the inspector was thrown off guard. 

“What the bloody hell was that?” Lacey said.  

Orion’s expression was calm. He stood up with a sigh. “That would be Wes Briggs, our explosions tech.”

Lacey was unsure of what she should say. Her brows lifted as Paxton walked out of his office. She still stood in the office with a confused look on his face. Orion looked back into his office and gestured for the inspector to follow. 

“Are you coming, inspector?” he asked.  

The woman opened her mouth to speak but soon closed it and silently followed Orion to the lab.  

“God damn it! Son of a bitch!” 

There was the sound of coughing and the blaring siren of the smoke alarm going off. Inside the lab, a man wearing a lab coat (now covered in smoke) had a fire extinguisher in his gloved hands and was spraying at the flames. Eventually, the smoke alarm died down and so did the inferno. The man pulled down his goggles and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. His blonde hair was dyed with flecks of green at the tips. Although normally against dress code, the bomb's expert persuaded the captain (and police chief) to let it slide. 

“Inspector, Wes Briggs; he makes things... interesting around here,” Orion said, gesturing to the other man. 

“Technically,” Wes said with a cough. He tore off his gloves with his teeth and tossed them in the biohazard waste basket. “I make things go boom.” He placed the fire extinguisher on the table in front of him and grinned at Lacey who simply stared at him. Her eyes were blown wide in shock and her mouth agape. Orion folded his arms over his chest, eyes and gaze narrowed onto Wes’ grinning face. 

“Now’s not the time for jokes, Wes,” he said. “I don’t want to explain the chief how you nearly blew up the lab... again.” 

“Alright, alright,” Wes chuckled. He rolled his eyes and walked over to another table. “You’re such a killjoy, boss.” 

“Briggs,” the captain growled. Lacey forced back a giggle and hid her smile. “What can you tell us about the fire?” 

“Well, I can tell you that it was set before Espo and Novak got there,” the technician stated. He held up a scorched lighter and handed it to Orion. He continued to speak as the captain began to examine the lighter. “CSU found this outside of the house. I sent it to Perc who found Deek’s prints all over it so my guess is that he was trying to get rid of the evidence before making a run for it.” 

“Was an accelerant used to start the fire?” Lacey asked. 

Wes nodded. “I ran some tests on some of the debris left behind and found large amounts of acetone; must’ve poured it on the back door before skipping out. Looks like your guy wanted to cover his tracks but something tells me that this guy is no amateur; he was planning this thing for a while. But it looks like he didn’t plan on Espo and Novak showing up to his place as soon as they did.” 

He handed the lighter back to Lacey who began her own examination. “You think he wanted to burn down his house at some point?” Orion questioned. 

“I don’t think anyone in their right mind would want to burn down their house unless they had somethin’ to hide,” Wes said. “You could call it more of a hunch.”  

The captain was unamused. “Get to the point, Briggs.”

The bomb technician nodded and turned his back to Orion and Lacey. “Right, sorry about that Cap.” He typed onto his computer for a few moments before the pair came to stand behind him.

“So, going off of my hunch, I had Percy cross reference any hardware stores that were certified to sell acetone within a ten-mile radius of Deeks’ place and he found one store that fit the bill; Milton Village Hardware.”

“But Brendan and I didn’t find anything in his financials to suggest that he went there. There wasn’t much activity on his credit card or bank accounts...” Lacey stated. 

“Which means that your guy paid in cash,” Wes finished. “Deeks isn’t stupid; he wouldn’t make a mistake like that.” He pointed to the computer screen where the three could clearly see what had happened. “Now, with the owner’s permission, I went through the store’s security footage and found Deeks paying for a gallon of acetone three weeks ago.” 

“Technically, I went through the footage and found Deeks,” a voice said from behind the trio. All eyes turned to see Reese Atchison, a red-haired man with freckles on his face. He had his arms folded over his chest and stood in the doorway; his gaze was narrowed to Wes who smiled sheepishly at him. Reese strode into the room with a scoff. “If I remember correctly, you stood behind me, ate a sandwich and played Candy Crush on your phone.” 

“... but I beat level 834! I’ve been on that level for over a week now,” Wes said. “That should at least count for something.” 

Orion turned to the bomb technician who stared at the floor and slid out of the chair. He gestured for Reese to sit. The audio technician snorted and rolled his eyes. He sat down and began to adjust the monitor while everyone stood behind to watch. 

“Deeks may be knowledgeable in pyrotechnics and evading the police, but he was incredibly stupid and failed to see the security camera hidden behind the counter,” Reese stated as he pressed the enter button on the keyboard.  

And sure enough, on the screen was Deeks, paying for a gallon of acetone with cash. He wore a dark brown hoodie and jeans and did his best to avoid the security camera by the front door. However, he failed to notice the security camera that sat just behind the counter which in turn caught him red-handed.  

“I think this is the part when you say, ‘Good job, Briggs. Take the rest of the day off. And don’t bother coming in tomorrow!’” the bomb technician said with a grin. 

Orion clapped his hand on Reese’s shoulder and said, “Good job Mr. Atchison.” 

The audio technician grinned and leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his lips. “Always a pleasure, sir.” 

“Call us if anything else turns up.”

Wes rolled his eyes and waved off Orion and Lacey. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Always like to take away the fun out of everything.”

“It’s what I am paid to do,” Orion said. Lacey held back a laugh as the pair strolled out of the lab.

Once they were out of earshot, Lacey asked, “Does this happen often? The blowing up of the lab?”

“At least a few times a year, the chief wanted to get rid of him after the first time it happened but I convinced him that Briggs is the best in the business, Two tours in Afghanistan, three years with the SWAT team in Queens; Briggs knows what he's doing,” the captain said. The two began to walk up the stairs and Orion continued to speak. “He may have a slight obsession with bombs and pyrotechnics, but he knows what he’s doing.”

Once they entered the squad room, they found Hector with an ice pack over his eye and was leaning in his chair. There were speckles of dried blood on the collar of the Latino's t-shirt. Brendan sat across from him and had two large boxes in front of him. She immediately raced over to her friend and winced when the Latino pulled the ice-pack away. His eye was a nasty purple and black bruise that had almost swelled up shut. Apparently, the man had taken a good punch in order to take away something like that.

“Oh God, what the bloody hell happened to you?” she asked. 

Hector opened his mouth, but Brendan snorted and said, “Some crazy chick was complaining at the crime scene and when he went over to calm her down, she hit him with her purse.”

Lacey’s concern disappeared and instead was replaced with laughter. She held a hand to her mouth, hoping to contain her giggles. But it failed. She wiped away a tear from the corner of her eyes. She shook her head and snorted.

“You were hit in the eye with a woman’s handbag?” she repeated, eyes narrowed to Hector.

Hector glared and then winced. He placed the ice pack over his eye again and grumbled, “I’m sure that damn things had bricks in it.”

Orion gestured to the boxes on Brendan’s desk. “Are those the rape cases?”

The young detective nodded. “Yeah, been going over some of the files and... uh - there’s something you gotta see.” 

Brendan opened one of the files and turned it to the captain. His face fell and in response, he closed the file. Orion handed it back to Brendan without another word. He stood in silence for a moment; his eyes turned to Brendan. The younger detective nodded to his captain and the older man did the same. The captain briskly walked away from the others and went straight to his office where he closed the door shut. The inspector winced as the door was slammed shut.  

Lacey glanced over at Brendan. “Is everything alright?” she asked.  

“An old enemy is back on our radar,” Brendan replied.  

“Who’d that be? We have a lot of enemies.” Hector snorted.  

“Morgan Trent.”

Hector’s face fell and lowered the bag of ice. “Shit.”

* * *

It was so familiar -- the man felt the same chills running down his spine though they weren’t caused by the sinister act he was so eager to perform. He had waited a long time for this moment and he was only moments away before he would kill his next victim.

Darkness lurked behind all the walls of the buildings, and murder hung in the air like a thick fog, creeping through the streets of Boston until it finally engulfed it completely. The man, dressed in all black, knew the act of murder well, along with the thrilling chills it brought along. He had been doing this for so long and he was itching for another taste of murder.

The killer turned onto Somerset Street where he ducked into the alley and hid in the shadows. He watched as a couple walked down the street, both tipsy from drinking. He figured they had gone to The Kinsale Irish Pub & Restaurant on the Center Plaza; it was the closest bar in the area and was an excellent hunting ground. However, he had other things in mind. He scrunched his nose in disgust; he had always disliked the taste of beer. While he did enjoy it in his younger days, he now preferred scotch on the rocks as his choice of drink. 

Several moments passed before he finally decided to make his move. He slipped out of the shadows and strode towards a brick building that was decorated with several designs. The killer pulled out a pair of black leather gloves, courtesy of a friend and pulled them on. Once they were secure, he strode up to the metal gate and wrenched the door open. It opened with a screech just like any metal gate would.  

He made his way up to the wooden door and knocked. He took a step back and waited until the door swung open to reveal Darren Ward dressed in sweats and a black tank top that was covered in paint splotches. The man leaned against the door frame and folded his arms across his chest. 

“What the hell do you want?” Ward asked. 

“I simply wish to talk, Mr. Ward.” 

“I’m not exactly in the ‘talking’ kind of mood.” Ward rolled his eyes and turned away, and stalked into his studio. The other man stepped into the studio and closed the door behind him. He watched as Ward walked up to one of his canvases and set out to work.  

The canvas was mostly finished at this point. All the colors had come together nicely; a mixture of blues, greens, reds, and splashes of orange. The portrait was a young woman with beautiful red hair and brown eyes. The man’s lips curled into a smirk; he knew that face. It was Jillian Monaghan; all bright eyed and a big smile. Ward was now working on details, standing on a step ladder and painting highlights in Jillian’s hair. 

“She was lovely, wasn’t she?” the killer murmured. “It’s a pity she’s dead.”

Ward whirled his head around and stepped off the ladder. He pointed at the other man with narrowed eyes. “You have no right to talk about her. You didn’t know her like I did, alright? I loved her and she meant everything to me... and now she’s gone.”

The killer sighed and bowed his head. “Very well; I only wish to depart as friends, Mr. Ward,” he said. 

Ward refused to believe the other man; something felt wrong about this visit. “Why are you really here?” he demanded. 

He sighed. “I had a feeling the truth would escape eventually,” the killer said. His lips formed a smirk. “I came to inform you that your services are no longer required.” the killer spoke.

Before Ward had the chance to react, the killer pulled out his handgun and fired once and Ward fell to the ground. The killer strode up to his claimed victim and bent down next to the body, chuckling as he did so. He placed the gun into Ward’s lifeless hand and reached into his jacket pocket for a blade. Humming an old Italian tune, the killer sank the blade into Ward’s arm and began to carve the letter A into his skin. When he was finished, he stood back up and stared down at Ward’s dead corpse. Someone ought to be calling 911 by now, he thought. He clicked his tongue. Such a waste of good talent. 

Blood pooled from the wound and onto the wooden floors of the studio, surrounding Ward’s head. He paid no mind to the mess, for he didn’t care. The sight would be stomach-churning and disturbing to some, the killer knew, but not to him. He wished he could stay with the body. Admire his work and enjoy each second -- but he couldn’t. He had other places to be -- other people to see. One who would want to know of his progress. He gently placed his gun into Ward’s hand and stood up to examine his handy-work. Satisfied, the killer proudly strolled out of the studio and closed the metal gate behind him.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters:  
> Reese Atchinson - Red Alert  
> Wes Briggs - Wheeljack
> 
>  
> 
> Guess you guys weren't expecting that? Leave your comments below and feel free to drop a few kudos! See you all in the next chapter!
> 
> \- Natalie


End file.
